Talk to Me
by emilycare
Summary: After a few months chasing Emma, Wyatt and Lucy finally get some time to talk about what's going on between them, if they can. A follow-up to Perspective. Fluff and heartfelt angsty talk.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A sequel to Perspective getting Lucy and Wyatt together, alone for a change. With gratitude to Impetus and Thank You.**

 **So exciting to have the pitch in now for Season 2! Go team, go!**

* * *

Taking another sip from her Rum and Coke, Lucy looked up from her notebook to glance over at the pool table. She saw Jiya trying various different angles with her pool cue, speaking, then gesturing emphatically. Rufus, standing next to Jiya, crossed his arms and furrowed his brow listening to her. Then he sprang over to a chalk board on the wall. He started drawing figures and sketching notation. She couldn't quite hear what they said over the music blaring from the speaker near her, but just seeing them so engrossed made her smile.

Lucy looked back at her notes. Emma had led them across time: Philadelphia 1787, London 1678, Paris 1799, back to Philadelphia in 1789. She was cross-referencing the contacts Emma had made, looking for patterns. Instead of the trail of bodies Flynn had left in his wake, Emma was spending time convincing key individuals of this opinion or that. Convincing Madison to continue to support the bill of rights despite Emma had been harder in some ways than saving Apollo 11.

Feeling blocked and distracted, Lucy watched the pool game. Rufus and Jiya were examining Rufus' drawings. Next to his notations, the score was marked in two columns. Current standings were: J/R-3, W/L-5. Seeing her initial next to Wyatt's gave Lucy an absurdly happy feeling. She tried to get back to the papers in front of her again, but found herself continuing to watch the three of them instead. Wyatt leaned against the wall, waiting with an amused expression on his face. After several more back and forths with Rufus, Jiya finally took the shot.

Lucy hadn't actually played on Wyatt's team since the first night they all came out together. She grimaced now, remembering how distracted and awkward she had been with the pool cue. She was odd man out from the start: Rufus and Jiya discovered a shared passion for the physics of force and motion that pool demonstrated, and Wyatt blamed his skills on the long, boring waits for active missions he'd endured while on deployment. Too many of Lucy's nights in bars during college were spent with a microphone in hand, performing with her band. The fact that she had been strung out from sleeplessness and anxiety just added insult to injury. She had been "relieved of duty," but was still part of the team, pitching in to help buy the first round of drinks on nights after their team lost. It was a relief and gave her time to try to analyze Rittenhouse's new plans. And despite the odds, her team was on a winning streak somehow.

As if just thinking of her recent insomnia made the fatigue creep back, Lucy suddenly gave a huge yawn. Opening her eyes mid-yawn, she saw Wyatt chalk his pool cue and look over at her with concern. He quirked his eyebrows and nodded slightly, questioning wordlessly. _Time to head out?_ She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, gave him an innocent look and shook her head. Wyatt nodded again and bent down to take his shot.

Lucy's mind was much clearer now than it had been when she first learned the truth about her Mother three months ago. Those first six weeks had thrown the team all together, Jiya included. They were stationed at a safe house until Agent Christopher could get some kind of grip on intelligence and know who else Emma and Carol were connected with. The endless sleepover atmosphere in between jumps had helped distract Lucy from the overwhelming reality she now faced. Her Mother was a part of Rittenhouse, actively engaged, maybe even part of the leadership. What did this mean? What about Lucy's life wasn't a lie?

At Wyatt's insistence, they'd consumed a lot of popcorn, watched _Weapon of Choice_ , _Dr. No_ and many more Bond films. Jiya and Rufus were on board. Lucy had a hard time relaxing enough to focus on the films. Watching _Weapon of Choice_ , Wyatt teased her mercilessly about flirting with the real James Bond. Rufus tried to defend Lucy, but got himself boxed into a corner when Jiya wanted to know exactly how sexy and charming he found Mr. Fleming. And then Jiya wanted to hear all the juicy details from Lucy about being hit on by James Bond.

To escape the scrutiny, Lucy did start the popcorn fight, but it was totally Wyatt's fault things escalated. All four of them found themselves chasing about the living room. The security agent on duty was not amused, but it broke the ice well and truly for Lucy. And though it was likely just the luck of the draw—Rufus and Jiya naturally gravitating to the love seat, leaving the couch to Wyatt and Lucy—Lucy selfishly enjoyed the fact that Wyatt sat next to her on the couch through each of the films.

A bit over a month ago, they'd been allowed to get back to their normal lives. There didn't seem to be any immediate threats to them in present day. Just to be safe, Agent Christopher assigned a security detail to each of their homes and families. Lucy was in a quandary with no home to return to. Jiya came to the rescue with the offer of her spare room. The two women had enjoyed rooming together at the Safe House. Lucy accepted this life-line gratefully.

Lost in thought, Lucy looked up in surprise as suddenly Wyatt appeared beside her.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you really need the whole table for this? Shove over, Professor. If I'm going to carry the whole team a man needs a drink!" Wyatt interrupted Lucy's revery. His words and tone were indignant, but the smile in his eyes belied them.

"Yes, sir, Master Sargeant," Lucy answered saucily. She tucked most of her loose papers underneath a stuffed journal. Wyatt's eyes caught on the weathered leatherbound book and lingered as he sipped from his drink. "You find any more useful connections in there?" He swiveled the glass absent-mindedly, making what remained of the ice cubes swish through the dark liquid.

"Nothing new. I think we're charting new ground. No more playbooks from future-Lucy." She gave a wry shrug. "Wish future-me could have been a little more helpful to **us** and not just our opponents who set out to destroy history."

"To be fair to Flynn, that wasn't why he was doing it," said Wyatt, taking a sip.

Lucy nodded. "No. We know why. And the fact that he's being charged with the murder of his own family now, when we know it's just not true, makes it all the more tragic. But he was like a bull in a china shop in terms of anyone and anything that got in his way. Emma is so much more careful and selective. I keep trying to imagine her plans like a chess board. We're trading ground and establishing territory, but I can't figure out what that territory is. I never thought I'd miss chasing Flynn around. I feel like I have to be much more on my game."

A server came over to their table. Lucy gratefully asked for a re-fill. Wyatt covered his glass with his hand and shook his head politely. Lucy commented. "You cutting back, Wyatt? And don't you take your whiskey neat?"

Wyatt looked at her, surprised. "Yeah, I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. What about you? You trying to drown your sorrows in caffeine? What happened to your Prosecco?"

Lucy nodded vigorously. "It's my secret weapon. The rum relaxes me, but the cola helps me focus. I was such a mess when everything changed, after.." she trailed off. Wyatt chimed in with, "After you learned about your Mom." Lucy nodded and took a sip of her drink. "Right. Coming out here with you all is helping me focus my energies, and I do actually fall pretty soundly asleep when I get back to Jiya's these days."

Lucy looked back down at the notebook she was writing in. It was pristine and new, but a twin to the weathered and over-stuffed one that Flynn had given to her. Wyatt said quietly,"You sure about using that?" Lucy gave a slight nod, then met his eyes again. She caught a compassionate look from him that made her heart melt. "It diverges so far from the other that it feels like proof that we can change the course of things. It's so different from what that, those other versions of me, wrote that I feel like it's bringing us farther away from those versions of reality."

She expected him to compose himself and drop the emotions he'd been expressing as she looked back into his eyes. She'd seen him hold back in other moments like this recently. But instead he just nodded slightly and reached out one of his hands to touch hers. Her heartbeat sped up as she said, "Maybe I can stack the deck a little our way, this time." He took her hand and smiled at her. Lucy was transfixed. Then she saw sadness in his eyes and the spell was broken.

"But it just can't change some things. I'm so sorry, Wyatt." She turned her hand over and grasped his instead. Her pulse steadied and she remembered. _Don't do this. No hope._ His expression shifted. He didn't shut down. Instead he looked, curious? Lucy was confused. She took refuge in deflection.

"Hey, what happened to the game? You letting the team down?" She gave a half-hearted laugh. "I'm getting used to Rufus and Jiya covering the first round of drinks." She let go of his hand. "I don't know how you do it. I really must have been holding you back." His eyes followed her hands, and she saw him compose his face again into its usual smirk.

"Oh no, they had me on the ropes all last night but lost it at the last minute. It's, umm. I think there's something else that's got them off their game." He looked over pointedly at the couple. "As you'll notice, they're not in any hurry for me to get back there for the next shot." Wyatt took another small sip of his drink.

Lucy looked up at them. Jiya was sitting against the edge of the pool table. Rufus was standing leaning into her. Their arms entangled, pool cues set aside. They were still speaking intensely, but with their faces close together. Rufus reached up to touch Jiya's hair. Lucy would put money on the game not being on their minds. Jiya kissed the palm of Rufus' hand, and Lucy colored slightly looking away, back at Wyatt who was looking at her with, was that longing? It was so fleeting, Lucy was not sure she could trust her impression. He glanced away immediately and straightened up, seeming to make a decision.

"So, Lucy, you and Jiya seem to be working out great as roomies?"

"Yes. Jiya is a ridiculously gracious host. She's been a real friend."

Wyatt nodded. Took a deep breath. "Well, I've got a suggestion about how you can pay her back for her friendship, but I don't want you to take this the wrong way." Lucy looked at him in suspense.

Wyatt eyed her levelly and continued. "Why don't we give them some privacy this weekend? I've got the room, I could put you up." He glanced down at the pile of papers. "I've even got space where you could get some work done."

She took a breath to speak, but at the look on her face, Wyatt put a hand out and interrupted her. "It's no trouble, and it's just temporary. It would be a way for me to help pay them back, too. They've been amazing." He glanced their way again, and Rufus and Jiya were breaking apart from a kiss, foreheads still touching. Wyatt leaned closer to Lucy and spoke in a hushed tone. "They haven't had any time alone since we came back. Jiya's doing so much better, and..."

Lucy looked back at the two of them. "Rufus has been over almost every day, but I should have thought of that before. Between the Great Safe House Sleepover, all our jumps and how thoughtful you've all been at helping me distract myself from worry by coming out every night we can, I've been keeping them from having time together."

Lucy smacked her forehead with her hand. "I should have realized.." Wyatt reached out and gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"No, Lucy, we all wanted to be there for you. They love you." He looked down and stumbled over his next words, then continued calmly. "I—we all care about you." He smiled at her. "You seem like you're doing much better, and I thought this might be a good time..." He paused, looking rueful. "..you'd be doing me a favor, too. I got used to having us all together and my apartment is feeling kind of lonely." He sat back, waiting for her further arguments.

Lucy nodded. She smiled at him, tears brightening her eyes. _Did he just say..?_ His expression softened, but he said nothing. "Thank you. I haven't thanked you all for these nights out, but they've changed everything for me. The safe house helped me forget, but then when we left, it all came rushing back. I needed to rest, but I would just lay awake staring up at the ceiling. Trying to think about what Emma was doing, but instead having all the little moments of my life with my Mom flash in front of my eyes. You've all been there for me." She took a deep breath and let it out again. "I'm in."

Wyatt looked relieved. "Good timing, now we just have to convince these two." Rufus and Jiya walked towards them hand in hand. Lucy thought, _This shouldn't be too hard._


	3. Chapter 3

_What was I thinking?_ Lucy sat tensely on the edge of the fold-out bed, looking around at the sparse decorations of Wyatt's living room. She put her bag down next to her and tugged at her clothes, thoughtlessly tightening the belt of the coat she still wore. The room was plain, a sculpture of birds in flight on the wall, simple earth tone furniture. Two doorways and a hall led to the rest of the modest space. The couch bed was made: sheets, blanket and pillows neatly laid out waiting for her. Something nibbled at the back of her mind about that, but she couldn't place it.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Lucy?" Wyatt called out from the kitchen. Tea. Blankets. Lucy tried to think about anything other than the fact that she had committed to spending the weekend with Wyatt. Alone. "Tea would be fine. Do you have anything herbal?"

He appeared through the doorway with two boxes in hand. "Chamomile, or green? Do either of those work?" He looked at her, took in her uncomfortable position and paused. "You know, I'm being a bad host." He put the boxes of tea on the coffee table where it was shoved aside to make room for the bed. "Let me take your coat." He put out his hands toward her, with an arch expression on his face. "And, maybe you can help me out by being a civilized guest.." he pointed to where his shoes were lined up like soldiers by the door. "..shoes please."

Lucy had been moving slowly, working awkwardly at her buttons, but then looked up at him with a gleam in her eye. "Wyatt Logan, king of breaking all the rules. Mr. 'let's bring grenades to the Alamo.' But guests have to toe the line and take off their shoes or we're 'uncivilized'?"

"Exactly. I'm so glad you understand." He raised his eyebrows expressively. "On a mission anything goes, but at home..well they say a man's home is his castle." He gestured broadly to the mostly empty apartment. "Mason Industries set me up when I was assigned here. Didn't seem to be much point in changing it since it's just temporary. It is a lot more personal than the barracks. Though it has a much smaller tv." Lucy handed her coat to Wyatt who hung it in a closet by the front door. She nodded thoughtfully as she walked to the door and dutifully shucked her shoes.

"You're my first guest, actually. If you don't count Chuck out there." Wyatt gestured toward the parking lot, where his one of his assigned security agents watched from a dark car. "Let me get the tea."

Wyatt walked back to the kitchen. Lucy, at loose ends again, drifted back toward the kitchen doorway following him. Wyatt called out, "Lucy, you must be exhausted. Come sit down and keep me company while this water boils." She came in, plumping down onto one of two chairs at a small table in the room. Dark cabinets lined the walls. A window above the table gave no light to the room. Lucy stifled a yawn.

"I'm not exactly sure why I should be tired, all I did was sit. " Lucy balanced her chin on her hands, watching Wyatt program the electric kettle then start some quiet music using his phone. He turned away and took down two white mugs with a seagull motif from a cabinet. She caught herself wondering what it would be like to saunter up behind him and put her arms around him as he reached up. She shook her head to get rid of the thought. _Get a grip, woman!_

As he took down the mugs he said, "Exactly how many rum & Cokes did you drink?" She shot him a guilty look, but calmed down when she realized he was commenting on her yawn, not her errant thoughts. She tried to count on her fingers. "Umm, I think three? No, four with that last one they brought just before we left."

"Four? It must just be the caffeine keeping you going then. Unless you're feeling the insomnia again?" She shook her head. The kettle popped. "What's your poison? You never did say." "Chamomile." "I'll join you."

He brought over two steaming mugs and settled in beside her. She smiled blearily at him. "Hey...Thanks." Blue eyes met hers and she gulped. The darkness and quiet seemed to slip an intimate curtain around the two of them, cut off from the rest of the world. He gave a small smile and sipped the tea, releasing her eyes. "It's no trouble." Lucy watched him, still smiling and musing dangerously. _He is so beautiful._ Grasping for some distraction, she said, "I didn't take you for the tea type."

"What, you think I live on whiskey?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

He grimaced and looked away for a moment. "Well, actually, there was a time when that was kind of true." He tilted his head and looked questioningly at Lucy. She tried to focus and look clear-eyed. He continued quietly. "After Jess died, I really lost it. Bam-Bam," he sighed and shook his head sadly, "and Teddy in particular helped me make it out the other side." Lucy's eyes grew wider. She felt another yawn coming on, but struggled to keep it down. She prompted, "They helped?"

Wyatt's face took on a faraway but strangely peaceful look. "They realized what I was doing and kept an eye on me when I was on the way down. Drinking. Lots. More than I can remember. Teddy picked me up when I was at my worst." He paused, then looked at her frankly. "I almost died of alcohol poisoning one night and owe my life to him stopping by to watch a game." Lucy blanched, sudden fear and adrenaline kicking through her system. His eyes widened briefly then flickered to her hands, but she kept them to herself with an effort. He went on. "This is bad timing, we should get you into bed. You must be dragging."

"Actually, no." Lucy's heart still raced with the hormones in her system. "I feel like I'm getting a second wind. You never talk like this." She hesitated then put her hand out onto his where it sat on the table. "I'm here." Wyatt closed his eyes, then closed his hand around hers, taking a deep breath. Slowly—Lucy had never felt a moment take so long to tick by—he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers just below the knuckles. Lucy was unable to process what was happening. Her breath sped up. With perfect clarity she heard the soothing voice of John Legend coming from the speaker. She saw the fine threads of Wyatt's hair on his forehead. She felt the warmth of his skin. Could feel the imprint of his lips on her hand like a brand. _This is not fair. Not fair at all._

"Wyatt?" Her voice broke. She stared at him, simultaneously willing him to open his eyes and look at her, and fearing that very thing. She took a deep breath. _Don't hope, remember, no hope._ She began again, more calmly. "Wyatt, am I losing you now? You were just telling me how sad you were when you lost.." He opened his eyes and she had no idea what to make of the expression there. His eyes were dark with pupils wide. But the languid ease he'd shown was broken suddenly by..anger?

"Lucy, don't do this again." Wyatt said sharply. For real this time. His eyes brightened with—she had no doubt now—anger. Lucy pulled her hand away from his.

"What is wrong? What did I do? What is going on?" She was completely befuddled. _This was such a mistake. What am I doing here?_

Wyatt put his face in his hands, took a deep breath. He looked at her again and the anger was gone. Washed away, leaving vulnerability instead. "You don't see it?" She shook her head, riveted to the look on his face now. He stood up and put out his hand to her. She looked at it hesitantly, confused by his anger still, though it seemed gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Please," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I want to explain."


	4. Chapter 4

Wyatt stood by the kitchen table where Lucy sat. His words still ringing in her ears, " _I want to explain"_ , she stared at the outstretched hand he offered her.

She finally took it and he helped her up from the table. Led her out to another room she had not entered yet. An office. A large grey desk sat beneath large-pane windows looking out onto a dark courtyard. She saw papers, some boxes and two picture frames sitting on the desk.

Wyatt led Lucy to the desk, and held the chair out for her to take a seat. He pulled a stuffed chair closer to the desk for himself as she took in what was before her. Folders piled in a box. Clippings and print-outs stacked and organized. The top folder was labeled "Wes Gilliam" in Wyatt's blocky but flowing printed hand. Lucy's eyes widened and she looked over at him with a speaking look. He nodded back. "Wyatt, this is your research?"

"Yes, all that I've gathered in the past five years." He continued on in a measured, calm voice. "Since Jessica died."

Lucy reached out for one sheet. It showed a color image of Jessica, described details of her disappearance. "She was so beautiful." Lucy's voice choked. Tears filled her eyes. She turned to Wyatt. "I'm so sorry..."

"Lucy." Wyatt's voice was thick. Then he chuckled. "Oh, Luce." He reached out to wipe tears away from her eyes, took her hands in his, and pulled his chair close. Their knees touching now, closer than even in the Lifeboat. He kissed her hand again, like he had in the kitchen, then pulled her into his arms.

Lucy was lost, feeling totally confused and something else that she didn't understand. She started sobbing on his shoulder. A sudden thought hit her. _How can he be comforting me?_ "Wait, wait." Lucy pulled herself away from him through a sheer effort of will. She sniffled, looking up at him. She had no idea what to say. "You were going to explain...?"

Somehow he was smiling. "What is so funny?" That made him actually crack a grin.

"Lucy, you're crying your eyes out on me, but you still want to solve the mystery at hand." He gestured at the box. "It's not that deep. Don't you understand yet? I am just ready. Ready to talk to you. Ready to move on." He took her hands again firmly in his now. "Lucy, I'm ready to let Jessica go." He looked closely at her, trying to follow the shifting of her breath, read her mood. He nodded, then he said, "Are you?"

Lucy looked at him stunned. The pressure of his hands on hers was steady but light. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because every time I start opening up to you, you bring her up." Wyatt shrugged slightly. "I'm just not sure to what to make of it. I see you.." He took a deep breath then kept going. "..I see your eyes light up when you see me. It feels so right when we touch one another, and it seems like you respond whenever we do. But when I say anything, or look at you like I really want to, this wall comes up." She saw the same look of longing she'd seen on his face at the bar earlier in the evening. Then his face changed to concern and his voice became very gentle and quiet. "Yes, that's right. Just like you're doing right now." He did not let go of her hands. "Talk to me."

Lucy tried, but her voice failed her. She reached out to him. He put his arms around her again and sighed deeply as she lay her cheek against his chest.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much for all your reviews! There are quite a few more chapters to come, and some more tough cliffhangers. But please hang in there! The endgame is Lyatt all the way.**


	5. Chapter 5

Ten minutes later, Lucy sat on the fold-out bed with the blanket tucked up around her. Wyatt came back into the living room, holding their mugs of tea.

"Shove over, Professor." His tone was jovial. She quirked a lop-sided smile at him, accepting the mug. "Yes, sir, Sarge." She tried to shift sideways beneath the blanket, the tea wobbling dangerously in her hands. Wyatt grinned, steadying her hold on the mug as he slipped into place beside her. "Careful with that. I just got these sheets, don't ruin them already."

Lucy exclaimed, "New—of course! The couch was already made up when we got here. Were you planning a night of..seduction all the time and I just fell for your devices?" Despite herself Lucy felt a blush spread over her cheeks. She tried to hide it behind taking a sip of her tea.

Wyatt looked over at her incredulously, waited until she finished her sip, then looked a question at her. He deliberately plucked the tea out of her hands again, placing it on the coffee table next to his own cup. He turned back to her and tenderly took her face in his hands. One hand crept beneath her hair and he slowly stroked his fingers down the back of her neck. Her hands came up to cover his. A shiver went down her back and she closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his hand at the nape of her neck. Without meaning to, she breathed "Wyatt..."

She felt his face come very near to her own. He said quietly, "Miss Lucy Preston, I would very much like permission to kiss you." She opened her eyes and crossed the distance between them, putting her hands around his shoulders, then one into his hair as their lips came together in a rush. For several moments she was lost in the textures of his lips against hers. She felt a warm feeling rush through her. He caught her lower lip in his teeth for a moment. She tasted chamomile on his tongue as he lightly traced her lips and teased the tip of his tongue into her mouth. Then he was pulling away. She listened to his breath, heavy and fast, realized it matched her own.

"Lucy..." Wyatt gave his head a shake, looked at her to check in, apparently liked what he saw and smiled. "I'm all for a 'night of seduction', but I hope you'd trust me enough not to do it on something this uncomfortable." He bounced on the thin bedframe, making the springs squeak. Lucy started giggling. "Seriously, nothing has gone as I planned tonight."

"So you did plan it!"

"Well, yes. But like the best laid plans, it went sideways right away. I meant to maybe talk with you tomorrow about my research, and Jess. I thought you could use my desk for your work with Emma." He looked rueful. "I wasn't sure you'd go for it, but I thought if I could show you how things were changing for me, it would feel more real to you..." He trailed off.

Lucy moved closer and gave him a brief, gentle kiss. She snuggled in against his chest. He put his arms around her again and said, "From how you were acting at the bar I figured you'd be asleep on the way home." He kissed the top of her head. He heard a happy muffled sound from her. "But Lucy, seriously, you're still in a vulnerable state. I really was hoping we could talk. It was a big ask having you stay the weekend, but I thought having more time might make this easier to take in. I figured we could talk about heavier stuff on Sunday, when you'd be heading back to Jiya's and have some space." Wyatt heard the soft sounds of Lucy snoring on him.

"Seriously?" Wyatt looked at Lucy's face. She was out. "Oh, you're never living this one down, ma'am."

Wyatt waited a few minutes stroking her hair and just taking the moment in. Then he slowly moved out from under her and got Lucy comfortably settled under the blankets. He stood watching her sleep for a few breaths, then turned off the light. He walked down the hall to his room humming "Ordinary People" to himself, and smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Lucy woke blearily to bright morning sun shining in her eyes. She had the momentary feeling she was back in Noah's apartment, where she'd crashed on the couch until she couldn't take it any more. The spare room in Jiya's had curtains, and this mattress was way less comfy than the futon there.. _Oh my god, I'm at Wyatt's._ The penny dropped.

Lucy wrapped the pillow around her head and turned over, cringing with embarrassment. She thought back to what he'd said, what she'd done. The image of the picture of Jessica came back to her. Wyatt asking to kiss her. Kissing him.

 _I can do this. I **can** do this. _ Lucy rolled out from under the pillow. She had fallen asleep fully clothed. She felt odd discomfort along her legs where it felt like the seams of her jeans had gouged into her skin. Her belt buckle poked her middle uncomfortably. _I've got to get up._ She thought about what to say to Wyatt when she saw him. _"Good morning, Wyatt? Shall we talk more about how happy I am you're forgetting about your dead wife?"_ _How about: "Hey Wyatt, 'sup? I did kiss you last night, right?"_ She groaned and put the blanket over her head, just waiting to hear his voice or footsteps in the hall.

Nothing. Aside from some birds calling outside the window and traffic in the distant street, everything was perfectly still.

Lucy tentatively pulled the blankets down and looked around the living room. Same bird sculptures. Same plain furniture. All her memories of the night before seemed so oddly surreal. _How could that have happened?_ She put her legs down on the ground and started groping about for her bag. Dragging a brush out of it, she saw a yellow sticky note on the coffee table sitting under one of the mugs.

"Good morning, Sleepy Head. Going 2 gym. Will bring back breakfast. Have some coffee. yrs, Wyatt"

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. She was careful not to think about whether this was because she didn't have to face Wyatt yet, or because she knew he'd be coming back. _What is my problem anyway? He's amazing. And it's good that he's ready to take his life back._

Having read the note, she noticed the scent of coffee. Trading the brush for what she presumed was her seagull mug from the night before, she followed the heavenly smell to the kitchen. It was darker there than the living room had been. The courtyard outside the window was still in shadow. A pot of coffee sat warming itself. Lucy poked around in the cabinets for sugar, opened the door of the mostly full fridge. _No almond mylk. Figures._ She made do with opening up a fresh quart of milk. _Caffeine._

Sated and feeling much more alert. Lucy took the cup of coffee back into the living room. Torn between needing to change, wanting a shower and the desire to sit there buzzing from excitement and worry until he came back, she took the fourth option and started exploring Wyatt's apartment.

To the right of the kitchen, was a fairly generous bathroom. The glassed-in tub called to Lucy. A stray worry about Wyatt coming in and finding her under the water turned into a far too graphic fantasy. A visceral memory of his lips and the taste of chamomile hit her like a wave. She took a gulp of coffee and moved on to the next door.

His bedroom. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness. Deep midnight blue curtains from floor to ceiling blocked all the morning light. Feeling uncertain but strangely compelled, Lucy stepped into the room. While still simply decorated, it was clear that this room reflected Wyatt unlike the rest of the apartment. A well-loved lone star quilt with reds, blues and browns on a cream background covered the bed. Lucy was drawn in by the lovely thing. She touched it, recognized the hand stitching and realized that this might well date back to the Great Depression. Unthinking, she sat down on the bed tracing the near-invisible quilting with her hand. Her mind went to the circle of women that had come together to make this perhaps as many as 80 years ago. She shook her head at the mystery that was Wyatt Logan.

Looking around, she saw more familiar objects. At the end of the room she saw the sturdy black metal gun lock box that must be the home away from home for Wyatt's weapons. Hanging on the wall in a simple leather sheath, she saw a long frontier-style knife that she knew had belonged to Jim Bowie. Looking over at the dresser and open closet, she caught a glimpse of his dress blues. A flat-black stuffed duffel bag sat beneath his hanging clothes. On the dresser top sat a flat hinged leather box. Recognition tugged at her. Curious she stood up from the bed and went closer. Peering through the gloom, she saw the lid was labeled "Purple Heart." Lucy touched the box with one hand and was lost in memories from 1836 in Texas.

Next to the medal she saw something that was instantly recognizable. Sitting on a book was a battered, folded picture. Lucy didn't need to open it to know what it was. In her mind she saw the smiling faces of Wyatt and Jessica. But with Wyatt's question from last night suddenly pounding in her ears, _"Are you ready to let go?"_ Lucy set down her coffee and smoothed open the picture with both her hands. Jessica's so-blonde beauty, the joyful look on both their faces, their youth. Her heartbeat accelerated and she found herself striding out of the room.

She came out into the living room, her mind a blank and a knot forming in her stomach. The light dazzled her eyes, knocking her further off her stride emotionally. Casting about for action to take, she half-heartedly started un-making the fold-out bed. Pulled the pillows and blanket off, then hitched up the far end of the bed, trying to fold it back into the couch body. Something caught, and it stuck in place. She tugged futilely for a moment muttering, "That cannot have happened." Then she gave up and grabbed her brush and bag, disappearing into the bathroom to change and attend to her morning routine.

The bathroom, damp from a shower taken earlier, smelled like Wyatt: clean soap, a mellow spice deodorant, the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol. Plenteous bandages and first aid supplies stood at the ready by the sink. Lucy, not showering, hurried through her motions with an ear out for Wyatt's return.

She emerged some time later. With her nerves still jangling and not sure what to do with herself, Lucy paced in the living room. She tried to un-do the couch but just succeeded in smacking herself in the hip with the bed, so she ended up leaving it half-in, half-out. _Breathe, breathe._ Lucy felt the knot in her stomach expand, stretching out tentacles of tension throughout the middle of her body.

Movement outside caught her eye. She saw Wyatt walk down the sidewalk wearing charcoal grey sweats, carrying a white paper bag and a to-go cup. Lucy moved toward the window and sat on the couch arm. She saw a smile on his face. Was he whistling? Her heart melted, and at the same time the tangle of her confused emotions made her gasp. Wyatt stopped at a dark sedan with smoky windows outside the apartment. The window rolled down and after chatting a moment, he handed in the cup to the car's occupant. Lucy tried to calm down and prepare herself to see him again.

"Hey—sleepy head, you up?" Wyatt pushed through the doorway, his mood ebullient.

* * *

Waking at dawn had set Wyatt a perplexing choice. Keep to his room, work on reading chapter 3 of Lucy's book on Lincoln, all the while reliving their kiss last night and thinking about how close by Lucy was; come out of his room and try to keep quiet enough that he wouldn't wake her; or just get out of Dodge. His usual routine had saved him. When his gym opened at 7am, he was showered and ready to go. He tip-toed out and left Lucy a note. She muttered in her sleep, and he couldn't resist the urge to place a light kiss on her forehead.

The early morning trainer made a comment about how chipper Wyatt was today. He had to keep stopping himself from going through the reps too quickly. "Slow it down, man. Your house on fire?" Wyatt opted to skip his extended weights rotation and do the boxing regimen today instead. The footwork exercises and fast combination punches felt like just the right pace. He stopped off at his favorite Mexican restaurant and impulsively grabbed a cup of coffee on the way back as well. Walking back down the street he'd jogged along to get to the gym, he whistled and hummed the same song that had been caught in his head since last night. There was a spring in his step. Stopping off with this morning's security officer outside the apartment, he said good morning to Margot and offered her the cup of coffee. She gratefully accepted.

Stepping through the door, something seemed off to him. Lucy was sitting on an arm of the couch with the bed half-closed. The sunlight streamed in through the door behind him. Lucy looked his way and smiled, but pensively.

He closed the door behind him slowly. Took a breath and looked narrowly around the apartment. "Is everything all right?" Lucy nodded quickly.

Wyatt's shoulders untensed and he raised up the bag. "Did you get the note? I got breakfast burritos, hope that works for you."

"Sure. It's fine." But the expression on her face told Wyatt there was more she wasn't saying. He put the bag down on the coffee table and gestured to the couch. "Need some help with that?" He took a step towards her.

Lucy shook her head and made a broad gesture. "Wyatt, I'm not sure I can do this."

Wyatt moved closer. He spoke very quietly and reached out a hand towards her. "Lucy, please don't tell me we're back to square one. Were you tired or drunk enough that you don't remember last night?"

She looked up at him and the concern and confusion on her face broke his heart. "I do remember. Though I think it gets a bit fuzzy at the end. But it's so much to take in. It feels like a dream. I need some time."

Wyatt let his hand drop. He looked away, trying to think what to say. A muffled but insistent ringing from Lucy's bag interrupted his thoughts.

Lucy jumped up, coming close to bumping into Wyatt as she navigated around the metal bed frame. He steadied her, guiding her past. She closed her eyes and swallowed involuntarily at the jolt she felt from the touch of his hands on her arms. She gave him a pleading look and moved on to her bag. Wyatt let her go by. Lucy tugged at the zipper and started searching through for her phone.

As he watched her worriedly, Wyatt felt his own phone start to buzz and ring. Lucy looked back up at him, and they stared at one another for a moment. Then said simultaneously, "Emma." "Christopher."

Lucy dug more quickly through her clothes and Wyatt pulled out his phone to answer.


	7. Chapter 7

Jiya stretched languidly. Rufus was making coffee. The sun was shining outside. They had her apartment to themselves. Life was very, very good.

"Rufus!? I'm going to call Lucy now."

A moment later Rufus popped his head in through the doorway. "You sure? I'm not sure she'd be an early riser."

"Early? It's 9am. She's a teacher, she's always awake by now. You're not changing your mind about tonight?"

"What? No. Absolutely not. I'm taking you to Foreign Cinema, come hell or well, I guess we would have to cancel if Agent Christopher calls. (please don't call, please don't call)"

Jiya laughed, shivered a bit and pulled the sheet up over her still very sensitive skin. "Go get the coffee already. It will be fine. I'm sure she will understand!"

Rufus nodded and walked away, taking out his own phone.

* * *

Lucy found her phone had settled to the very bottom of the duffel bag she'd brought to Wyatt's. As she saw the name displayed on it she said "Jiya," then she heard Wyatt behind her say, "Rufus." They glanced at each other again and smiled. Lucy started laughing, but Wyatt said, "They could still be calling about something important," he picked up. "Wyatt here."

Lucy clicked "accept" and tried to wriggle away from the looming bed frame as she sat on the ground taking the call. "Jiya! Hey, how's it going? Everything all right?"

"It's good. I didn't wake you did I?" said Jiya. Lucy responded in the negative and watched as Wyatt moved around her mouthing _"Sorry,"_ then deftly pulled the couch-bed back out and swung an arm up and over to let the whole thing fall back into place. He moved about the room, re-assembling the couch while responding to Rufus on the phone with a series of "uh-huhs." Then came over to her and gave her a hand up to sit on the couch. He gestured to his bedroom and went down the hall to take the call. Lucy's attention jerked back to the phone.

"..Lucy? Lucy, are you still there?"

"I'm sorry, Jiya. It's an odd morning. What were you saying? I'll have to ask you to start over, I'm afraid."

"Are you okay? Did you have another bout of insomnia?"

"No, no, I slept like a rock. How about you? Did you have a good night?" Lucy realized what she was asking a moment after the words slipped out of her mouth and grimaced at the phone. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean..."

Jiya laughed. "Ummm..yes. I won't go into any details, but I was just saying thank you so much for giving me the place last night. I was really missing having alone time with Rufus, and unless Emma intervenes it's looking like we're going to make this a staycation getaway weekend. Rufus made reservations at a restaurant for us tonight! I'm going to dress up and everything. We're thinking about going to Golden Gate Park for the day. But let's plan on pool tomorrow night, okay? And I can bring you back home here after."

Lucy closed her eyes in envy and heartache at the happiness in her friend's voice. Jiya so deserved this. It had been so touch and go for a while, and they were still trying to understand what the time machine had done to her. Lucy tried to make the enthusiasm she knew should feel sound in her voice. "Are you going to wear that sheer kurti top you got? You look devastating in it. Please take pictures!" Jiya gushed and promised.

"So, Lucy. I'm sorry to stand you and Wyatt up like this. We usually do dinner and pool on Saturday night. It was awesome of Wyatt to offer. Things working out okay? Maybe better than okay?" Lucy tried to think of what to say, some smooth-it-over, oh everything's fine kind of answer. But she just couldn't.

"Oh Jiya, it's so much better than okay and so much worse. I cannot believe how I'm feeling. And Wyatt..." Jiya let out a peal that was half-laughter, half-squeak.

"Lucy! You have to tell me. What's going on? Did he kiss you? Did you sleep together?" Jiya sat up from the bed with the tangled sheet around her and bounced in place.

"No! No, we did not sleep together. But," Lucy turned red, so glad she was on the phone and not in person with Jiya. "But I kissed him. Oh..." Lucy groaned and flopped down into her own lap with the phone cradled to her ear. "Jiya what am I going to do..."

Jiya went wild and talked on, rapid-fire. "Lucy! This is so great. I've been so waiting for this. We've been wondering how long it would take. You know he adores you, don't you? How do you feel? Wait, why are you upset about this?"

"Shhhh...shh...please don't tell Rufus, I don't know what's going to happen, and it's all just so overwhelming. I'm completely confused." Jiya sat up straight and tried to calm herself. She ran her free hand in front of her face as if to wipe away her glee and said to Lucy, "Got it. Everything's new. I can't promise to not let something slip, but I won't talk about this with Rufus if you don't want me to...yet. But I have to tell him later on! Please let me tell him after the weekend. Or maybe it will be so obvious when we see you two—"

"Jiya!" Lucy cut in. "Please, I don't think you get it. I just don't know if I can do this." Lucy's innards roiled as she listened to Jiya, as though someone was cranking a come-along winch that was mysteriously attached to her belly. "There's just so much, with Jessica, with my Mother, with all that we're dealing with."

Jiya became completely serious. She listened intently to Lucy, then said, "Lucy, my friend. I don't know what you're feeling, and I know I can never really understand how Wyatt feels about Jessica or what you're dealing with about your family, but hear me—do not throw this away because you're afraid of making things worse. There is nothing you need more right now than a loving shoulder to lean on and fight beside. Now stop making me go on like James T. Kirk rallying the Enterprise for war on the Romulans. Please, Lucy. Give this a chance. You deserve it."

Lucy sat back upright on the couch and wiped away tears from her eyes. "Jiya, thank you. Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you."

* * *

Wyatt walked down the short hallway to his room. Rufus was still apologizing that he hadn't been able to delay Jiya from calling until any later, after explaining about their plans for the day. Wyatt opened the curtains a crack to let the light in and flopped down on his back in the middle of his bed. "It's fine, really. No, she wasn't interrupting anything. Well, except maybe stopping me from ruining things."

"What does that mean?" Rufus found a spot on the balcony to sit where he was sure Jiya could not hear him. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know Rufus. Lucy is acting so strange this morning. I ended up talking with her last night about some serious stuff. I actually thought everything went well." Wyatt could not stop the huge grin that crossed his face again. "Really well, actually."

"What!? You didn't?"

"No—nothing happened, well mostly. I mean, I can't tell you any more. I'm sure Lucy would kill me. It's bad enough that I told you about Arkansas."

"Yeah, you know how hard it has been to keep that from Jiya?"

"I'm kind of hoping this weekend will help even the score a little bit."

"Touché. But you should have told me you were going to suggest this. You know how hard it was to get reservations to Foreign Cinema with so little notice?"

"Sorry, man. I wasn't sure what her reaction would be. I didn't want to take any chances."

"Sounds like you've got it bad."

Wyatt groaned. "Rufus, you have no idea. You know that scene in _Splash_ , where Tom Hanks comes into work and starts singing "Zippedee-doo-dah" with an avocado or something? That was me this morning, but with 'Ordinary People.'"

"John Legend? Well, that's a good change, because _Song of the South_ is super-racist."

"Oh, good point. But you know what I mean!"

"I get it, I get it. And Lucy?"

"I don't know. Last night was...encouraging..but this morning she looks overwhelmed and I'm scared I rushed her. How did things go with you and Jiya when you got together?"

"Not sure if that's going to be helpful unless you really want to almost die in 1754, and then have your lady get screwed up by some un-known facet of time travel. Oh, right. That is, basically, what happened to you, too."

Wyatt sighed. He glanced over to his dresser and saw that it was not how he had left it. As he listened to Rufus, he sat up and looked it over. He saw the coffee cup and the now-open photo of him and Jessica.

"Rufus, I may have figured something out. Oh, I can really be my own worst enemy."

"What you're only realizing that now? Wait, I'm supposed to be encouraging you here. What did you figure out?"

"That I've got to walk my walk. What am I going to do?"

"Hey, I have no idea what you're talking about now, but you really don't need my advice. Just listen to what you must have been singing all morning. _Take it slow._ "

Wyatt put his hand on his face. "You're a genius."

"That's what they pay me the big bucks for. Good luck, Wyatt."

* * *

Wyatt came back down the hallway, carrying the mug. He didn't hear Lucy's voice so he thought she must be done talking with Jiya. He saw her sitting on the couch, looking out the window and hugging her knees to her chest.

"Hey, Lucy." She looked over at him still worried, to his eyes. He raised up the mug and said "You didn't finish your coffee, want me to make a fresh pot?"

Lucy realized where he'd found the mug immediately. "Oh, Wyatt, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious and you were out so..."

He put the mug down again and sat next to her on the couch. It hurt not to touch her, but he studiously avoided coming into contact with her. "No, you have nothing to worry about. You are—completely welcome here." He had almost said "welcome in my bedroom any time", but didn't want to spook her and was thankful he caught himself in time. "I'm sorry I rushed you last night." He put a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it. "I really meant for you to have as much time and space as you wanted. You, your comfort means so much to me."

Lucy unconsciously breathed deep and settled her knees down underneath her on the couch. Wyatt was encouraged and went on.

"So let's go back to Plan A."

"Plan A?"

"Sorry, not sure how much you remember from last night. You figured out that I had planned to ask you to stay—"

Lucy laughed, almost back to herself now. "Yes, I do remember that." She remembered what had happened next and her blush returned. Wyatt resisted an urge to reach out and pull her to him. "Let's call a truce. From what Rufus said, sounds like he and Jiya have big plans this weekend. So I guess you're stuck with me."

Lucy looked at him shyly. He sat patiently. She said,"I'm really grateful you suggested this. You were completely right about them needing space. And..."

"And..."

Lucy looked down for this part, spoke very quietly. "And there's nowhere I'd rather be than here."

Wyatt looked down also and closed his eyes. He actually felt tears behind them. He took a breath, then looked up at her again with a smile. She was looking at him tentatively and he said, "There's no hurry. Let's take this slow."

Lucy nodded, and she thought just maybe the knot in her stomach started to loosen.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Content warning-panic attack symptoms starting at "Lucy looked out at the children again."**

"You hungry?" Wyatt said into the silence that had fallen between them. They sat on the couch. Sunlight sliding deeper into the room touched Wyatt's feet.

"I think I'm..ravenous," Lucy answered. That put a small smile onto his face.

Lucy smiled back but sat, uncertain how to proceed. _Where do we stand?_ "Hey, Wyatt, let's start this morning over fresh. I'm liking the sound of your Plan A."

Wyatt's smiled widened. He felt the happiness that had left him when he came back into the apartment begin to bubble up again. He nodded. "Sounds good to me. I have a suggestion. You in the mood for getting outside?"

* * *

Lucy was skeptical about eating out in the courtyard, but it turned out that the fresh air did her good. The tension lacing through her since she left Wyatt's bedroom continued to ebb away. Wyatt had reheated the burritos, added some salsa and guacamole on the side and added some slices of orange to round out their dishes. She dug in with relish.

Looking around, the courtyard was nothing glamorous: some drought-resistant perennials in beds within the circle of attached buildings; several picnic tables with benches like the one where they sat; and a basketball hoop with small court beside some swings on a hard dirt pad. A few hand-holds made a kids' climbing wall near the swings. "Real luxury accommodations they gave you."

"I feel kind of at home here, actually. My mom found us a couple of places like this when I was a kid. Some of the better spots we landed in." Lucy looked at him, thinking about how much respect she had for Wyatt, how much he'd lived through. Wyatt gave a sad smile and went on, "They had a couple other spots they suggested but I chose this one, more for the security than the nostalgia, though." He leaned across the table and pointed past Lucy, out toward the entrance to the courtyard and to the parking lot. Lucy's gaze followed. "The line of sight out to the main road is clear. There's only one entrance for vehicles, but there are several other exits you can reach by foot if something goes wrong. First floor for quick exit, etc." Lucy's look had turned to a stare in his direction, and he trailed off. "What?"

Lucy shook her head, "You never turn it off, do you." A door opened loudly. They both turned their heads as young voices rang out. Two children ran to the swings. Lucy and Wyatt watched them for a moment, then looked back at one another and smiled. He went on in a quieter voice.

"Honestly, it's mostly just a mental exercise, except when I'm stationed somewhere with heightened security issues. But this time, it could be more useful than I'd figured on." He looked at her askance. "I'm not really crazy about Jiya's place in those terms."

She raised a hand. "Don't tell me. I have enough to worry about as is. If it's good enough for the security folks they have watching us, I'll trust it will be good enough if something happens." She nibbled on her burrito. "Plus, what about Rufus and his family? He owns that place, you don't expect him to sell his house and move do you?"

Wyatt looked down and paused before he answered. One of the children leapt from their swing, tumbling down on the dirt. Lucy and Wyatt's attention was caught by the startled cry, but no tears ensued. In a moment the kids scampered over to the climbing wall. "Rufus' house is in an extremely secure neighborhood. There's no gate, but there is a private security force contracted by the neighborhood association. The layout is good, his security system is top notch. It's almost like..."

Lucy gave a world weary nod and said, "Almost as though Mason knew what he was doing when he helped Rufus find a place." Wyatt nodded grimly.

"There's just so much about what we're doing that is outside of our control." Lucy continued and put down the rest of her burrito glumly. She picked up an orange slice and sucked at it half-heartedly. She looked up at Wyatt with a look of dismay. "How can we do this?" Her voice had edged up in pitch and volume. The children paused and looked over at them. She continued more quietly, and the children continued in their climbing and chatter. "It's hard to feel like we can get ahead of it all."

Wyatt's hand covered Lucy's on the table. He sighed. "This is all so beyond me, too. But I do have the advantage that this is basically what my life has been since I joined the Army. Following where Uncle Sam directs is pretty much always that way." He smiled at her, and she felt her mood lighten, grateful for the shift. "One problem, one assignment, one puzzle at a time, right? I spend most of my time trying to make sure my tools are sharp so that whatever comes up I can handle it."

"Ah, that explains the trip to the gym on a Saturday morning." Lucy got a devilish gleam in her eye. "Or is that to keep your figure in shape for admirers."

"Admirers, huh? You've got some grandiose ideas about my social life," Wyatt smiled and breathed out in relief, glad the shadow over their conversation had passed. "Besides.." He thought, _Besides, there's only one person I'm worried about impressing._ But he went on, "No, that's just my usual daily routine. It's a nice jog to the gym. I often head back in the afternoons for sparring practice. Or drive out to the shooting range. That's not quite as close."

"Every morning? Such dedication."

He shrugged. "It gives my day focus. Plus, I find I do some of my best thinking when I'm working out. Just get out of my own way."

"Like, ideas pop into your head? And hey, besides what? What were you going to say?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Besides nothing. No—ideas don't really pop into my head. But sometimes things slip into place."

As he spoke, Lucy realized that Wyatt still held her hand. She looked down to where their hands met on the table. She narrowed her eyes at him and gave a small grin. "Is this part of the plan?" She thought she felt his pulse beat a bit quicker. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and looked about to take it back in the face of her scrutiny. But she shifted her fingers and laced their fingers together instead.

The smile smoothed off his face and he leaned in to say seriously, "You know as much about the plan now as I do. I'm just following your lead for the rest. I really don't want to rush you again."

Lucy closed her eyes a moment. Checked in with herself. Her stomach muscles felt calm. Her head felt clear. She opened her eyes again and nodded at their hands, "This feels good."

The tension in Wyatt's face eased and he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. He said quietly, "I'm so glad."

He paused looking down at their hands for a moment, then went on more brightly, "I'll take that as a win, then. Shall we move on to our next challenge?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Want to tackle the study with me? We can get you settled in."

Lucy chuckled. "Let's do this."

"Good. I think I could really use your help."

* * *

 **A/N: Going crazy from the suspense about renewal this week. Figured might be nice to have another chapter up sooner rather than later. Crossing everything for them to renew Timeless!**

 **(Sorry for the so slow burn and very light fluff here, Wyatt's really trying to not mess things up. But look for things to heat up a bit, later.)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Content warning: panic attack symptoms described in paragraph starting "Lucy looked out at the children again."**

* * *

A few minutes and some washed dishes later, Wyatt and Lucy stood by the desk in the office again. Lucy looked out of the windows and saw the two children standing on top of one of the tables: sword-fighting with sticks or possibly casting spells on one another.

There were more boxes in the office than Lucy had noticed the night before. The box of research was closed and placed on the floor nearby. Wyatt had rummaged through one of the other boxes and found a thick photo album stuffed with photos and clippings which now sat on the desk. Apparently in recent weeks Wyatt had made a trip back to San Diego and retrieved belongings from his storage unit there.

"Seemed like time." He said. "We can't really know how long this will go on." Lucy nodded agreement.

"So how can I help?" Lucy stood looking at the boxes with her hands on her hips.

He grimaced. "I'm hoping, actually, you won't mind giving me some moral support. I'll be right back."

As he walked off, Lucy looked at the desk again. In the light of day the framed photos stood out to her. She picked one up and was surprised to see familiar faces. It was a picture taken at their bar, with Rufus, Wyatt and Lucy sitting at a table. Rufus was holding a box of Chocodiles and they were all pointing at it, making goofy faces. She racked her mind for a moment trying to remember when this might have been. Then she recalled that first box Wyatt and she had found for Rufus after getting back from 1754. It had been the first of many, though none tasted quite as sweet as those first few.

She picked the picture up and touched the glass with her finger lost in thought. Wyatt walked back in holding something.

"Oh, you hadn't seen that, had you?" He grinned. "Thought it was a good way to celebrate our survival."

She nodded, putting the picture back. "And Rufus' bravery under fire." She glanced at the other picture, the figure of a young woman by a car, with suitcases. She looked up at Wyatt. "What's this one?" She saw then what he had in his hand. The folded picture of Jess he'd carried with him as long as she'd known him.

He took a long breath, his emotions had shifted. He nodded shallowly a few times. "Yeah, let me tell you." He looked down at the photo in his hand. "And this." He looked uncertain now, a bit pale even.

Lucy said, "Let's sit down, Wyatt." He gave her a grateful glance and they pulled up seats again, near the desk.

"I didn't expect it to be this hard." He set the photo aside and looked closely at Lucy. "This isn't supposed to be me laying my baggage on you, Lucy. I know, it was hard on you to hear me say I was over her, and then see that photo in my room, still..."

"Shh.." Lucy interrupted him. "Wyatt, I shouldn't have been in there."

"No, that's not. Um. That shouldn't be a barrier, Lucy. It doesn't matter where you saw it, what's important is how it felt." He took a deep breath and gathered himself. "How are you doing? I want to talk with you about this, but I also need to be sure it is not going to chase you away again."

Lucy thought a moment, then said, "Wyatt, I'm good." She looked at him steadily.

Wyatt shook his head. "My gut says there's something else. You were there for me last night, too, when I talked about my past and I'm grateful—but this morning it was too much. Can you tell me about that?"

Lucy looked out at the children again. They were lying on the ground near the basketball hoop. One with their head on the other's stomach, both basking in the broad sunlight. She thought back to the night before. Remembering Wyatt talk about his friends help him through his grief and near self-destruction, the fear it had triggered in her. She thought about how it had felt to hear him say that he was ready to move on. The anticipation, excitement even. And then how it felt when she saw the photo in his bedroom. The ball of panic in her stomach re-surfaced, not as strong, but dense and draining. Her breath came more quickly and shallowly. She turned to Wyatt and put out a hand and clasped his shoulder.

"I'm.. I don't know what's happening," she gasped. He nodded and put a hand to her back, and bracing his arm against hers as though he helped her balance despite the fact that they both sat squarely in chairs. She leaned into his strength. "There's more to it, Lucy. It's okay. We can come back to this. As long as you've got patience for me, we've got all the time in the world."

Lucy gave him a grateful look and then pulled him to her. She curled into his chest and started crying. "Shhhh...Luce," Wyatt breathed. He smoothed her hair and kissed the crown of her head, rocking slightly. As he did so, Wyatt felt a sensation in his own chest like melting water. He found tears coming to his eyes as well. His breath started hitching and in moments he held her tightly, crying softly into her hair. Lucy's sobs calmed and she tightened her grip on him. One hand caught between their bodies, her other hand came up his back. She traced long smooth lines down the length of his spine. Wyatt's body became wracked with sobs. Lucy sat up straighter, holding him against her now. She felt his tears trickle down her neck.

Eventually Wyatt calmed. Lucy returned the kiss he'd given her, lightly touching his forehead with her lips. A shudder went through Wyatt, and his hands around Lucy's waist tightened, then loosened softly. Wyatt pushed himself up slightly, placing enough distance between them that he could see her face. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, mirroring his. She smiled through the tears and said, "We're just a soppy mess, aren't we?" Wyatt laughed and wiped off his face, keeping one arm around Lucy. She put both her hands to her face and collapsed in to his chest again, but laughing this time.

"What?" Wyatt said, a mystified grin forming on his face. "Come on, share the joke."

"You keep asking me to say what's going on, but I just honestly have no idea." She looked up at him and shook her head incredulously. "Wyatt, I'm useless." His expression changed. It resembled that look of longing she was getting to know, but had a harder edge. She recognized it from moments when she or Rufus were threatened.

He said, "No, ma'am. You don't get to say that." He gulped, looking at her eyes, her lips. "I so want to kiss you right now." He leaned nearer for a moment, then diverted his trajectory and gave her a reverent kiss on the forehead. "But a great man advised me to give you some space."

Lucy closed her eyes when he kissed her brow, then fought disappointment and searched for any feelings of relief to cling to. She came up empty, but was still gunshy from her own feelings. She chickened out on what she really wanted to do and simply clung to him, putting her cheek against his shoulder. "You mean Rufus?"

Wyatt felt emotions swell inside him as he held her. "Nah, though he helped out."

Lucy mumbled something about blame that Wyatt didn't catch. He said, "Don't blame Rufus."

She looked up at him. "Wait, but you did talk to Rufus about us? Did he know about this all?"

Wyatt looked caught but tried to cover it by saying, "And you're telling me you didn't talk to Jiya?" Lucy relented, but the look of relief on his face told her he had been guessing.

Lucy pointed to his chest. "No way, you're not getting off that easily. You were the one with the plan. Was Rufus in on it?"

"No. No! Really." Lucy stared at him. "Well, I did talk to Rufus about some things. I was feeling down, after the second time we went back to Philadelphia—remember? There's much less for my skills involved now. And it wasn't seeming like you were interested in anything developing with me." He looked ashamed. "I was feeling sorry for myself and had a few too many with Rufus. I told him about Arkansas, and the rest came out."

"Arkansas? You told him we kissed? But we made a deal not to mention that to anyone!"

"Yeah, I know I felt terrible about it."

"Does Jiya know?"

"No—Rufus swore he wouldn't tell her, and I believe him." He smiled. "Don't you think she would have grilled you about it ages ago?" Lucy smiled and nodded.

Wyatt went on. "Well I did regret it, later. At that moment I really needed to talk to someone about how I was feeling. I told Rufus I was considering resigning, and he told me what a stupid idea that was." Lucy pulled herself up from his embrace, and Wyatt put a gentle hand to her chin. "Lucy, I wouldn't have done it. The next morning I couldn't believe I'd said it out loud. I think I'd have gone nuts if I left you to be protected by some random other person. When it was Bam Bam even, that was one thing, but look what happened there. And that was before." He gulped and looked her right in the eyes. "That was way before I knew how I felt about you."

Lucy said softly, "Wyatt, how do you feel?"

He returned just as quietly, "I think telling you would be violating the plan, ma'am." They smiled at one another.

Lucy's heart beat faster, but she nodded and said. "Okay. Back to that. What's next? You needed moral support?"

He sighed and hugged her close again. "With the photos. I'm trying to put my memories in order." He reached out for the tattered photo of Jessica. "Starting with this one."

Lucy touched it, too. "Tell me about her."

"We met in high school. She was college bound, I was going nowhere. She cottoned to me for some reason, though her folks couldn't stand me." He paused. "They blame me, you know. Her sister does, too. That's why I don't... Well, I just don't have anyone left now. My Mom died, my father, too. Grandpa Sherwin. At least he met Jess." He smiled down at Lucy. "I really wish you could have met him. I think you both would have gotten along. Wait..."

He straightened up, gave her one more kiss on the head and set her back up in her chair. Started rifling through the album and found a series of washed out photos showing a tall man with brown hair. In one he gave a young Wyatt a ride on a tractor. Wyatt paged through, pointing out his mother, father. Came to a picture of Wyatt and a young girl in what looked like high school. Lucy recognized her and suddenly realized who was in the other framed picture. She pointed to it.

"That's Jessica, isn't it? Where is she going?"

Wyatt took a breath and looked, hopeful? He spoke with a light air to his words, looking attentively at Lucy. "That's from when Jessica left our hometown to go to college. She picked up on her own and went out to the coast." He smiled. "Broke up with my sorry ass, and went to see the world." Lucy's mouth opened and she stared at him. He went on. "I know, lightning and all that. Not saying it wasn't. But she had dreams that I had to catch up with. When she left, I enlisted in the Army, and we connected again later on. We got married a few years later. And then, you know..."

Wyatt looked at Lucy to see how she was taking this. She looked back at him steadily, with compassion in her eyes. He nodded and kept going. "I've spent so long thinking about Jessica's death. It's driven out memories of her life, our life together, and really anything else. Sometimes when you talk about your sister Amy, and how you're the only one who remembers her, I think about Jessica. And my Mom. Jess' parents know her childhood, but they never really understood what Jessica cared about as an adult. Helping people, learning about the world." He looked at Lucy. He thought but didn't say, _Just like you._ He touched her face. "It's a huge thing to ask, and I really shouldn't from you. But I'd love it if I could just share these memories."

He shifted the album to a blank page and picked up the picture of him and Jessica. Placed it under the plastic film. "I want to remember all of it. Not just the terrible ending any more. And what am I doing if I just remember alone? I never met your sister, but I believe in her. I can imagine her first black-belt test, the one you told me about. Where she fractured her wrist on the cement block. Even if we never meet her again, she's alive in my memory, too."

He met her eyes. "I think, if you're willing—if we find a way to move forward together, that's what I'd like to ask your help with. Remembering and living with it all, especially the good. Not just the pain anymore."

Lucy put her hand on his cheek. She looked in his eyes and plan be damned, she kissed him tenderly.

* * *

 **A/N: So grateful for the rush of stories folks are sharing today! Need this. In for the long haul to find Timeless a new home, and also to enjoy our Time Team (and fan fam) here.**


	10. Chapter 10

Rufus had never actually been on the paddle boats at Golden Gate Park, so Jiya insisted they start the day there. "Awkward and hot." Was his review. They spent the rest of the morning playing disc golf, and then brought their packed lunch to Lloyd Lake, consciously and ironically choosing to find a spot near the Portals of the Past. After getting pictures together there and posting them to Instagram, they settled in to relax and eat.

After their meal, Jiya leaned back against Rufus. He took out Liu Cixin's latest sci-fi book in translation, and settled in to read. She had _Now: The Physics of Time_ set beside her. She'd read the first several chapters already, and was content at the moment just to soak in the sunlight and peace.

Rufus looked down at her. "Aren't we tempting fate a bit with all this?" He gestured at the elaborate portico near them, known as the Portals of the Past. Another couple was perched near the steps now, balancing their phone on a selfie stick dangerously close to the water. Jiya laughed. Rufus smiled and went on, "You learn anything new from Dr. Muller on the nature of time?"

Jiya flopped over, her head on his lap, and smiled up at him. "He says that the as the universe expands, time expands as well. And since the universe hasn't expanded to where it goes in the future yet, the future does not yet exist. He talks about the present as the crest of a tide that we're riding forward."

"Well, that might explain why we can't go forward in time?"

She reached up to where he held his book, fiddling idly with his watch. "But this would also mean that the universe is no longer where it was when we experienced the past, so therefore time travel to the future and the past would be equally impossible." Rufus put his book down and took her hand. "Which we've—rather, you and Anthony, have proved is patently untrue."

"As you've learned all too well." He gave her a worried look.

Jiya smiled at him. "I'm fine, really. I haven't had a fit in weeks." She squeezed his hand and went on. "It may be that part of the problem is our conception of what space is. Every point in space is expanding away from every other point in space, around some center that we can't conceive of."

"Like the 2 dimensional person trying to imagine a 3 dimensional world."

"Yup. And yet we go into the past all the time, so we're from the future of those folks we interact with. It seems like the flow of time may be more a matter of perception, like layers of an onion or rings in a tree. What happened in the past is still there, but maybe when you're riding the crest, like he says, you can't see forward, only back."

"But," Rufus looked reluctant to say this, "that still doesn't account for the many different timelines. How can the past co-exist with the present and yet the events be fluid and changeable?"

"Maybe all the different timelines are coexistent, like a matrix. It goes back to that conceptual problem, we need math and theoretical physics to describe the shapes the universe makes, but we can't perceive it with our normal senses." They looked at one another.

Rufus said, "And this is what we choose to do on our day off." He mumbled something about "being made for each other," and leaned down to give her a kiss. She closed her eyes and felt a rush of tenderness and desire that still felt brand new. She opened her eyes as he raised his head again and saw look of bemused wonder on Rufus' face.

They sat staring dopily into each others' eyes for a few moments, then laughed and broke eye contact. Jiya settled back down and opened up her book, giving a satisfied glance up at Rufus as he went back to reading his. He had a very wide smile on his face and his eyes still looked faraway. She sighed and said, "I hope Lucy and Wyatt are having a good day, too."

Rufus' eyes took on some worry. He shook his head and said uncertainly. "Yeah, I wish them luck."

Jiya put her book down on her chest. "Wait, what do you mean by that?"

Rufus looked guilty and kept on reading, "Nothing. Just hoping they enjoy themselves."

Jiya sat up. "You are a terrible liar. What do you know?"

Rufus put his book down, too, and looked at her squarely. "Nothing I can talk about. I gave my word."

Jiya shook her hands in the air and smiled broadly. "Oh, this is great! I did, too, but only if you didn't know already. What did Wyatt tell you? Did he tell you more about the kiss?"

Rufus looked stunned. "So you know about that?"

"Well, she didn't tell me much, just that it happened..."

"How long have you known?"

Jiya looked at him confused. "Wait, how long could I have known, it just happened last night! Wait," She looked at him incredulously. "No. You have more to tell me don't you?"

Rufus put his face in his hand and nodded. "Wyatt is going to kill me."

* * *

 **A/N: Apologies to any physicists or cosmologists for any errors or bad technobabble you may notice here. Tried to keep it w/in contemporary thoughts, but I'm no expert. :) All errors are mine, Rufus & Jiya of course would be up on the most correct & cutting edge science, a la exotic matter. **

**Also, hurrah Timeless fandom & makers! #TimelessUncancelled!**

 **25 May 2017: per a summary of Shawn Ryan's AMA I see that multiple timeless not in canon. Ah well! This is all speculation on the Time Team's part, anyway. #timemachineproblems**


	11. Chapter 11

"I think, if you're willing—if we find a way to move forward together, that's what I'd like to ask your help with. Remembering and living with it all, especially the good. Not just the pain anymore." Wyatt sat looking at Lucy, his hand still on the album where he'd placed the photo of him and Jessica. He looked apprehensive.

Wyatt thought, _Here it comes. Up go the walls._

Lucy put her hand to his cheek, remembering the other times she'd done this. At the Alamo, _You are the one that I trust._ Their kiss in Arkansas, _I just think you, we, anyone has to be open to possibilities._ She looked into his eyes, saw the vulnerability there. _I've made promises to him. Can I keep them?_

Very slowly, with her eyes open, sober, awake and with intent, Lucy kissed Wyatt.

Her hands landed on his chest, balancing there lightly. His hands came up and traced a line of fire down her upper arms, cradling her elbows. She kissed him with a butterfly light touch at first, then closed her eyes and deepened the kiss with a gentle, exploratory pressure. She tried to express all she'd been holding back, as sweetly as she could. Wyatt responded. He stood, pulling her up with him. She felt his body relax and mold to hers. Lucy allowed herself to feel the emotions he brought out in her. Let the peace and strength she found in his arms wash over her. Felt desire, fierce devotion. She leaned into him, her hands climbing up to encircle his neck. He kissed her in return, matching her gentleness and following her lead as the intensity of her kiss increased. Her tongue slipped shyly into his mouth, and he welcomed her.

Slowly, winding down with small kisses, she pulled back. She looked up at him, felt his arms where they had settled snug around her, laced behind her back. He released his hold, giving her room as she rocked backward slightly.

She spoke quietly. "This, you, are what I want, Wyatt." His eyes were unfocused, his lips slightly reddened, his breath uneven. She put a hand on his chest, touching his heart. He made a sudden shift and she realized that his knees had wobbled beneath him. She tightened her grip on him until he was steady again.

"And you are right. I didn't realize it but I've been putting up barriers. But I am so willing to 'help you out.'" She smiled cheekily up at him, then grew serious. "There is nothing I would rather do than hear about the people you love. I am so grateful for all you've done, and tried to do, to help me find Amy, to support me about my father, my mother."

Lucy's voice wavered. Wyatt's hands tightened fractionally. She gave a sad smile. "And what I need to ask from you, is patience. Like I said before, I don't know what has been keeping me away. You have no idea how much I've wanted this." She looked down, putting her head on his chest again. Wyatt closed his eyes and stroked her hair overwhelmed with feelings. He just barely caught what she said last, "I need your help, too."

"Anything, Lucy. Anything."

She looked up at him again,"Stick with me? I'm not sure what's wrong, or what I can do. All I know is that I need you in my life. Desperately."

Wyatt, traced a finger around the arc of her cheek bone, down to her chin. "I promise." Then he wrapped his arms around her again and crushed her to him.

* * *

Half an hour later, Lucy sat at the desk alone, her papers around her. She stared out the window, trying to get her head in the game. All she could think about was the warmth of Wyatt's arms around her. How long he held her after they kissed, until he insisted she take some space to get work done. How much she wanted this with him, and how much anxiety and fear she still felt about it. Sitting alone the weight of the challenges they faced pressed in on her.

She tried to set all of it aside. Then she had an idea.

"Wyatt? Do you have a basketball?" She poked her head into the living room. Wyatt seemed to be thumbing through movies online. He swiveled around to look at her and gave her a dazzling, open smile. It hit her like a sunbeam and sent warm shivers running through her body. _Damn, just from looking at him..._

"Sure do. Have to pump it up, but yeah. What have you got in mind?" He put down the remote.

"I thought maybe I could get in on your exercise-makes-me-think game."

"Mind if I join you?" His expression tempered with hesitation, his brow furrowing slightly. _Am I welcome?_

Lucy felt guilt at the signs of his doubt. She gave a playful smile. "Hey, I'm borrowing this all from you—would be pretty small of me to shut you out, right?" A look of relief crossed his face, and his normal, crooked smile was back. "Darn right. Very small indeed. Even from such a tiny person."

"Hey!" Lucy gave him an outraged look. Wyatt, grinned at her and leapt up from the couch. He shuffled about in the closet and soon had the ball. She grabbed her bag, "I'll just change and be right out."

Lucy, went into the bathroom, feeling elated and not thinking too hard about anything. She rummaged in her bag for a moment or two and then realized that aside from pajamas, she had nothing remotely loose enough for the purpose. She knew what she had to do, and took a moment or two to steel herself for it. She marched back out of the bathroom.

"Wyatt," Lucy had a hang-dog expression on her face. "Another favor, looks like. Can I borrow some clothes?"

He blinked for a moment, then another huge grin slowly crossed Wyatt's face. After a moment, he sobered, but his eyes were still dancing. "Absolutely, ma'am. Be right back."

* * *

It had been over a decade since Lucy had played basketball. The undershirt Wyatt loaned her was tucked into the long, loose string-tie shorts that he'd given to her to wear. That scent again, of spice and soap came to her as she stood on the pavement, sun shining down on them. Walking over to the court, she now saw a bulletin board close to the door the children had used. Posters for a found cat, cleaning services and apartments for rent fluttered a bit in a light wind that picked up. A small shadow pooled at the base of the apartments, waiting for its turn to engulf the courtyard once more.

Lucy walked over to Wyatt, feeling a bit self-conscious of her appearance, waiting for a snarky comment. He was already out working a pump, and gave her a smile and sideways glance but said nothing. She wasn't sure if she was glad or disappointed. He finished pumping up the ball and tossed it to her. _Is this like riding a bicycle, too? s_ he thought.

Not quite. Lucy's wind had gone long since. Although she was in much better shape now than she had been when working towards her tenure, she was no match for Wyatt's easy lope around the small court. She dashed toward the basket, and made shots with some skill, but crashed right into Wyatt more than once, too fixated on the goal. They laughed and she relished the touch of his steadying hands which seemed to linger a little longer each time.

Wyatt also hadn't played in years. His dribbling was atrocious, and he lost control of the ball several times to Lucy. Her hands were quick, and she feinted beautifully. His shots were deadly accurate, however. Lucy and he dashed about the small court. Laughing like the two children who'd played there earlier. They taunted one another, and made some intentional fouls to push each other off balance.

At one point, Lucy had the ball, and pretended to go for a shot, then quickly doubled back. She slipped around Wyatt skimming by him, taking a much closer shot as he spun around trying to intervene. She leapt for the basket but her aim went wild. It bounced off the backboard and ricocheted into the swings, sending them flying.

The exertion caught up with her and she doubled over, wheezing. Wyatt standing behind her now, shifted his hands from a guarding position to encircle her waist, resting them lightly on her hips. He stroked one hand down her back as she caught her breath. She stood up, wobbly. He shifted her weight and let her lean on his side, arm around her.

"So Lucy, when did you play?"

She tried to slow her breathing and choked out, "High School. Intramurals. You're, not, even, breathing hard..."

Wyatt chuckled, she was exaggerating, but not by much. "That's what I get for trying to keep up with my admirers' wishes, or so someone told me."

Lucy batted at his arm, but leaned deeper against him. Her mind was free of anxiety for the first time she could remember. Between the adrenaline from the game, and the floating on air feeling she was getting from being this close to Wyatt.

"You want another game, professor?"

She shook her head. "No, I think that did the trick. Let's see what I can do about reading Emma's mind."


	12. Chapter 12

For the second time that day, Wyatt let himself collapse heavily into the center of his bed. However, this time when he put his hands over his face, it was to try to make sense of the happiness and excitement surging through him. _Does she mean it?_

He had just left Lucy working away at the desk on her second try for the day. Humming to herself and shooing him away when he offered her food, lemonade. "I'm in a groove, Wyatt. Can't you see? Hand me my history stick, would you? I'll grab a sandwich or something later." But smiling, full of energy. He hadn't seen her this way in months. Perhaps not since her Mother told her they were part of Rittenhouse.

She was so animated during the basketball game. Things did seem to fall into place. Especially how she looked in his shirt... He had kept a strict lock on how he looked at her. Distracting himself with the business about getting ready to play. But he hadn't been able to keep his hands off her. Miracle of miracles, she seemed so much more comfortable with him being closer now.

He took deep breaths, trying to rein in his imagination and shore up his heart. His mind strayed back yet again to the morning and their kiss. He'd restrained himself with difficulty from blurting heartfelt but ill advised words like love, passion, commitment. _Get it together, soldier. This is all new territory. Scout it out. Don't get over-confident._ But then he heard her voice again, saying, _"I need you in my life, desperately,"_ and he closed his eyes remembering.

When she reached out to him after he made his plea, she looked so serious. He thought she was going to try to give him an easy let down. But instead...something happened. Her kiss started as this chaste, reassuring connection, then became breathtaking. He tried to follow her lead and not push things to be any stronger or deeper than she wanted. Flowing with her. But what she wanted...

It wasn't the most passionate kiss he'd received. Even their second kiss had had an edge of hunger (at least for him) that was missing here. But there was a different intensity to it. _This was Lucy._ He'd spent so long shying away from his feelings for her, to finally embrace them struck him like a blow. He tried to give her room to bridge the space between them. He was confronted with what that tenderness from her really felt like. When she touched his chest afterwards, he felt weak from the strength of his feelings.

Wyatt had a strong urge to call Rufus. But no way, not today. Teddy? Wyatt smiled. He probably could, but he'd never hear the end of it from him. Rufus would understand, but nothing short of criminals threatening the timeline would make Wyatt interrupt Rufus and Jiya's date. It was going to be okay. _This is all going to be okay._ For the first time, Wyatt started believing maybe things would work out.

* * *

Lucy's mood from the game continued through the afternoon. She felt relaxed and focused. Floating on a sense of well-being she had almost a sense of deja vu to her life before things changed. Taking a moment to look at the framed picture of her team, and whisper a brief prayer for that young hopeful Jessica in the other picture, Lucy leaned into it and spread out her research on Wyatt's desk.

She combed through her entries and notes, trying to peer into Emma's soul. Well, actually trying to get into Emma's history-head. Everyone had their own approach, Lucy had found. Did they focus on the economic connections and lines of status and influence? Lucy had gone through a material relations and Marxian analysis period in college. She kind of suspected that anyone truly devoted to Rittenhouse would be of the "Great Man" line, but...Emma? What did she really know other than that she was a fan of Suzanne Collins?

The team had been following Emma for several months now. Since she was taking more time between jumps than Flynn had, they'd in turn begun doing more research to get ready. Lucy's notes had gone from copious to encyclopedic to dissertation level. She organized her papers on the desk correlating them by time and cross-checking them with the data she'd hoarded from earlier jumps. _Alternate timelines,_ she corrected herself. After losing her sister and gaining a fiance, and worriedly maintaining a discrete tab on whether Logan's poor wife had survived her tragic death **this** time, Lucy had realized she needed more than just her memory to rely on.

There is nothing like having to boil down all of world history onto one place, Lucy found. Albeit that single storage place being a massive 5 Terrabyte usb flash drive, courtesy of Mason Industries. She'd realized right away she had to focus on American history, at least until they saw how much further Rittenhouse was going to branch out. She stashed a copy on the Lifeboat and updated it or recorded major changes each time they came back home. Rufus dubbed it her History Stick and the name stuck.

The journal that her Mother had given her was where she recorded their steps & experiences from the new places they'd gone, and also some of the differences from Flynn's journal. And the journal that she someday will have given to Flynn—Lucy's mind balked at the tenses thinking about that puzzle. The journal from the Lucy in an alternate, perhaps original timeline or timelines? Grammar and logic seemed to go out the window with time travel. She couldn't go down that rabbit hole again. Whatever she needed to call it, it became a familiar friend to her, too, in time. Something else she could use as a baseline in the midst of all the fluctuations.

Lucy read her entries from their first trip to Philadelphia. The entries from today's history's versus her downloaded log from other timelines were mutilated.

 _15 May 1787 - We arrived in Philadelphia before the start of the Constitutional Convention. It's well before the real start of negotiations to revise the Articles of Federation (and eventually replacing it altogether with the Constitution) won't begin for weeks. Madison and the Virginia delegation had recently arrived and were beginning work on what would become the Virginia Plan, the framework from which they crafted the Constitution. We are relying on Wyatt for entry to the Constitutional Hall while Rufus and I watch anxiously for signs of Emma. Not Wyatt's favorite thing in the world to take my maddening dictation about who he needed to talk with (Madison, get close to Madison!), and what to bring. Madison's responded well to his suggestions, based on my tutelage. Wyatt has started calling me his Cyrano. It's amazing how much he can assimilate, and so quickly..._

 _17 May 1787 - Emma is here. She's somehow wangled an introduction to Madison and is, I believe, wooing him furiously. Dolley Madison meeting and marrying Madison isn't even a twinkle in Aaron Burr's eye at this point, and Madison is a bachelor obsessed with his work. Emma's knowledge of history lets her go toe to toe with him, which is unheard of. He's the undisputed expert on his field at the time. We have to separate them somehow. Rufus and I have managed to infiltrate ourselves into the ranks of his servants and Rufus has gotten an earful about Madison's extensive plantations and slaveholdings back in Virginia. The Civil War is so far in the future, and even then we witnessed the dawning of Reconstruction and all the misery it brought to newly freed Black Americans. What exactly are we fighting for? How much of this can we truly blame on Rittenhouse?_

 _20 May 1787 - I've replaced one of the body servants of Madison so now I have free access to him in the evenings. The Virginia Plan has been drafted in the main part and I've been able to peep on some working drafts he's brought back to annotate. This is helping me steer Wyatt in his talks with Madison during the daytime. Today, Madison caught me reading one of the papers, but since he thinks I can't read I don't believe I gave away too much._

 _25 May 1787 - We're all here on the Convention Hall floor. Rufus and I of course, serving food and providing menial support for the delegates. I literally spent much of the morning scrubbing the actual floor while Wyatt debated Patrick Henry using my words! What topped it all was when Emma appeared. Madison has arranged for her to join his delegation and somehow she's even scheduled to speak later in the day. At least we'll get to see what she's planning._

Lucy reflected on what came after her entries. Emma was fanning the flames of Madison's fears about there being "too much Democracy." Her address had been a stunning take down of the various states and their petty rivalries and double-dealing. One that threatened to start a few new feuds that very day. Lucy shuddered remembering the chill that had run down her spine when Emma finished. She should have seen this coming. Of course, Madison's fears of the country dissolving were even borne out in the events of the following century with the Civil War.

Once again, it was Rufus who had found the thread to pull that diffused the situation. _"Follow the money."_ After a hurried conversation in the hallway, they had Wyatt introduce discussion of the question of apportionment of taxation and the conversation shifted back to familiar territory, uniting the states in their desire to balance their responsibilities with benefits they gained from the federal government. She had never seen Rufus so furious as when Madison introduced the 3/5s clause compromise. She held him during the deliberations, as he shook with rage.

And then, inexplicably, her mission seemingly not complete, Emma had gone back to the present.

Piece by piece Lucy examined the steps again. _Madison's decisions during the Constitutional Convention hadn't shifted after their first visit to Philadelphia. But then we went to London in 1678 when the writ of Habeas Corpus was instituted in the Assize of Clarendon, followed by our visit to the French Directory in the aftermath of the Terror. Step by step she's trying to influence the basis of democracy in the United States. Each of these is a step toward our Constitution. But she's not taking full actions. How do these build one on another?_

* * *

Wyatt popped his head in after a few hours. It looked like a bomb had gone off, with papers covering the desk and every flat surface. Wyatt gave a private smile thinking, _And I thought I was bad._

"Lucy, whatcha in the mood for?"

She looked up dazed. Daring, he walked over to her, brazen as day, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She blushed and blinked at him, not at all used to the gesture.

"What was that for?" She immediately regretted saying it. _Does he have to explain wanting to kiss me?_

He thought about what to say. _For being brilliant and gorgeous. For giving me another chance. For tearing apart my study and helping me step away from the yawning grave I've been staring into for over 5 years now. For being so loving and willing to be patient with a lost soldier. And for being there when I least expect it and when I most need you._

"Looked like you could use it," he said. "Spaghetti and meatballs okay? I've got a bottle of red and a bottle of white for you to choose from."

"Let's do red."

"It's a date, ma'am."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the long lapse, got writer's block about the jumps themselves. Thanks for following along and I look forward to any reviews you may want to share!**


	13. Chapter 13

Lucy pulled up to the table, feeling satisfied with her day. Wyatt had set out the dishes on the table and now started serving the food. She saw the bottle of wine they'd chosen and the corkscrew beside it. She picked them up to open and smiled at the strangely domestic scene she and Wyatt made.

She mused as she peeled back the metal film and screwed the opener into the cork. She was looking forward to sharing her insights with Wyatt. She felt a bit nervous, too. Some of her observations were about how he had performed, how the team had worked together. She wasn't used to opening up about that with him. She reassured herself that that was exactly what he always did. His leader's eyes assessed their condition, suggested actions to help support their morale, which he took. This was so unlike her perspective as a researcher.

She'd moved into team thinking when they were in the field on a mission, but the scholar's slow, meticulous work alone still dominated her efforts in the office. She was used to taking in the words and thoughts of other voices separated from her by distance of time or space. Careful uncovering of original sources, the detective work of comparing conflicting accounts and the imaginative leaps one had to take in the absence of hard evidence. These were her tools in the painstaking field of history. Even her anthropological work, though much more socially oriented, involved much solo work. Sorting through interviews, considering the interpretations of artifacts. Working with a crew was always necessary, but coming together with other experts as deeply versed in her area was the exception, not the norm.

Wyatt's whole world view was team-oriented. Constantly relying on the talents, awareness and efforts of others. From the start he'd looked at Rufus and her as more than independent actors. And more than just tools to an end, but people with emotions & motivations that he needed to support. She paused for a moment, looking over at him with curiosity and admiration in her eyes. Did he really learn all of that from Delta Force? Neither David nor Sullivan had done anything like it, though poor David hadn't had much of a chance. And Sullivan outranked Wyatt, so it wasn't more extensive experience or responsibility that accounted for it. It's just who Wyatt was.

He looked over at her and smiled back. Wordlessly asking if she needed help with the bottle, to which she shook her head. She braced the bottle on the table, pulling the "arms" down on the corkscrew and beginning to tug slowly on the cork.

Her mind kept going. What if she could have that kind of a team as well? Wyatt had proved resourceful in areas of military history, Rufus in science, Jiya's research skills were impeccable... Each of them knowing in-depth aspects of history that related to their own lives. What if part of the problem was not just that Lucy was missing things, but that there were things she alone could never see? Why wouldn't this be the same with her game against Emma? Emma was surely ranging all the power of Rittenhouse against her, why even...

"NO!" The cork popped free suddenly, as a horrifying thought occurred to Lucy. The bottle toppled, nearly dropping on the floor. She saw Wyatt do a double take and watched him reach out to help as though in slow motion, as she stumbled back against the cabinets propelled by the force of her tug, and her distraction.

Wyatt righted the bottle, but his focus was on her. "Lucy are you all right?" She realized only then that she'd cried out. She felt leaden, as though her limbs were weighted down. Her face was ashen.

"My mother." She said woodenly. "We've been focusing on Emma, but she's surely getting help from whatever Rittenhouse is left out there, and we know that my Mother is..." Lucy suddenly couldn't make eye contact with Wyatt.

He stared at her sudden change, realized that the sink was flooding, stepped back to turn off the water, then returned to her. He put his hands on her upper arms. "You know, this is about her choices, not yours."

She looked up at him, her eyes dead. He recoiled despite himself. "She's advising Emma. She's trained like me. She _trained_ me. Wyatt, how can I fight my own Mother. She knows as much as I know, knows _what_ I know. And she has access to secrets of history passed down that I've had no exposure to. There's just, no way... Wyatt."


	14. Chapter 14

Lucy stood shuddering in the kitchen, Wyatt's arms around her. He breathed in anger and resentment against the family that could reach out so unexpectedly, torturing the woman he loved. His own thoughts brought him up short. _That is new._

Lucy spoke into his shoulder."I wonder sometimes. The mission was so neat before—get Flynn, protect history. But even with so many of Rittenhouse behind bars, there's no knowing what this is turning into." She still shook. Wyatt gestured for them to sit.

"Lucy, since your Mom disappeared, you've not wanted to talk about her. But, it's got to be affecting you. How are you doing with all this?"

She looked down not wanting to face the concern he must be showing. "Honestly, I don't know. I find myself wishing I could talk with her, ask her why, find out what she's been thinking all these years. How she could lie to me... But I'm terrified of actually finding out." Lucy put her arms around herself and chafed her hands on her arms as though she was cold. Wyatt reached out a hand, and she took it with a sad smile.

"I'm sure you've thought of this, but it's entirely possible that Carolyn wasn't part of Rittenhouse in our home timeline." Wyatt stroked Lucy's hand with his thumb. Lucy was reminded of when he comforted her after Lincoln died. There was not blood today, but she felt similarly devastated.

"I do think about that, often. It seems likely? But I just can't ever know. We can't go back now and find out, so.."

"So, you might want to take comfort where you can." He put his other hand on hers.

"Even if it's a lie?" Lucy started feeling the pit of fear yawning again inside her. She stared down at the floor.

After a moment of watching her, Wyatt said, "Hey, hey—where'd you go?'

Lucy looked at Wyatt and whispered, "I just don't know what isn't a lie right now."

He shook his head and squeezed her hand. "You know at least one thing."

Lucy looked at him. _Her Wyatt._ She'd heard Flynn say that many times. Jiya had teased her once or twice by saying that when they were making arrangements for their nights out together. _"Don't forget to let your Wyatt know we're double-dating tomorrow night."_ Lucy hadn't had the heart to tell Jiya that it hurt her. The knife twisted a bit deeper every time. He'd never be her Wyatt.

Or would he?

She was staring. Wyatt smiled and said again, "Hey, Luce, where'd you go?" Then gently, "A better place this time?"

Lucy just nodded, caught between emotions.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." He gave his trademark smirk. "Because that one thing is this dinner, and it's not getting any warmer while we talk." He winked at her and stood, but kept her hand in his for another long moment, looking intently at her face to see how her emotions were shifting. Lucy smiled.

"You're right. My trainwreck of a family life can definitely wait. Your masterpiece of a dinner cannot."

Wyatt outright laughed. "Okay, now, don't set me up like that."

"What? From how it smells, I'm 100% sure this would blow anything I cooked out of the water."

"Shall we try that on sometime?"

They smiled at each other and worked together to apportion the food. Dark shadows stretched across the courtyard outside, but inside the apartment light and laughter held the day for a few hours more.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucy and Wyatt retired to the living room after dinner, leaving dirty dishes in place, pots scattered. Wyatt made them each a helping of dessert: strawberry short cake with store-bought biscuits, but the strawberries were fresh and the sweet heavy cream was newly whipped. Lucy nabbed the half-full bottle of red wine and brought their glasses with her. Full and sated, she embraced feeling the glow again. Worries about her mother hovered at the edge of her mind but she banished them, simply looking forward to the sweetness of dessert and the prospect of Wyatt's company.

Lucy settled on the firm cushions of the small couch. She tried several positions to try to get comfortable and settled on folding her legs beneath her. She was conscious of taking up more than half of the love seat and tried to make herself smaller to offer Wyatt room beside her.

As he walked over to her, Wyatt shook his head apologetically, "Sorry for the close quarters. And I do realize there is not much privacy for your here. At least at Jiya's you have a room to yourself." He set the small full plates on the coffee table with a flourish, but suddenly turned to look at Lucy. "I never asked if you had allergies—are strawberries okay?"

Lucy saw the promise of devastation in his eyes if she said no. She put a mock serious expression on her face teasing him with disaster, then smiled brightly stealing a cream-drowned berry from his plate. "Love them!" She popped the strawberry in her mouth and melted a little in her tracks, closing her eyes in ecstasy. "Oh, the whipped cream...it's divine. You made it yourself?"

Wyatt swallowed hard and glanced away before he answered. With the wine warming his belly, the look on Lucy's face sent his thoughts tumbling towards dangerously intimate territory. "Uh, huh. Of course. It's no trouble & is so worth it. I picked that up from Jessica, actually. She always insisted on fresh cream or nothing." He looked up at Lucy, curious to see her reaction.

Lucy nodded, looking reflectively at one of the berries before she nibbled on it. "Jessica had good taste," she looked up at him a bit mischievously and said, "But then I already knew that." She took a dollop of cream on her finger which she licked off with relish. Wyatt, watching, became entranced and distracted from his own thoughts.

He licked his lips slightly. Then he shook his head, picked up a fork and took a bite. "Tell me about your insights about the jumps. What did you pick apart from Emma's activities today?" He glanced up at Lucy concernedly, "If you want to talk about it now."

Picking up her plate and greedily carving into the treat, Lucy said, "Sure. I actually wanted to get your input on a new approach we might take."

"I'm all ears." _And all eyes_ , he thought ruefully, unable to take his gaze from her as she revelled in the taste of the dessert.

"Emma has resources unknown to us. That's part of the problem we've been dealing with—we just don't know what Rittenhouse has amassed over the years." (Lucy licked whipped cream off her fingers) "Before we were dealing directly with Flynn. He just had my journal and whatever he could pick out about Rittenhouse' actions & motivations." (a strawberry dropped on the floor, so she stole one from him with a wink to replace it, reaching over his crossed leg and brushing against his arm.) "This is a totally different picture." Finishing off the fluffy biscuit, she scraped the remnants of cream from her plate with an errant berry. With a last soulful gulp, Lucy turned to look at Wyatt before she continued talking. She watched him start eating from a near full plate, realizing he'd had but a scant bite of his own.

 _Just watching her eat is turning me on,_ Wyatt thought to himself. _Down boy._ "Mmm-hmm..." he said.

Lucy poured herself another glass of the wine, and crinkled her brow at her. "I'm not boring you, am I? You asked..."

Wyatt put down his fork and gave Lucy a look that told her in no uncertain terms that he was paying attention to her. Lucy swallowed and tightened her grip on the glass as she took another sip.

"Umm.." Wyatt said throatily, and coughed before going on, "I'm sorry Lucy. I got distracted. Please, I'm listening."

Lucy found her own attention pulled away from the fight against Rittenhouse, becoming critically aware of the contact between their legs as she sat curled on his couch. She tentatively placed her hand on his thigh, just inches from where her knee rested comfortably against him, but she somehow felt she crossed the Rubicon in that small distance, moving from companionship to desire.

Wyatt's hand stilled. Fork captured between his fingers, dipped deep into the confection. He swallowed and continued digging out a modest helping, then turned as if transfixed, looked to Lucy and offered her the sweet bite...

Lucy's mouth quirked into a sideways grin. She rolled her eyes up to look at Wyatt, to find him staring at her lips. Slowly she leaned forward, sliding her hand further across his thigh. She watched him as he moved the fork to her mouth, then she closed her eyes involuntarily as she accepted the heavenly taste. She felt cream catch on her mouth, and opened her eyes to see Wyatt's intense blue gaze darkening. He reached a slow hand to her. The warmth in her belly grew, spreading deeper, a tingling beginning and her skin prickling at tender points.

Wyatt touched Lucy's jaw, scooping up some of the cream. He moved to bring it back to his mouth, but Lucy caught his hand, brought it back to her lips. He felt the soft warmth of her mouth enclose his finger, the slight rasp of her tongue gliding across the calloused skin. As she sucked lightly on him his body felt lit on fire, and he turned to face her fully. His other arm encircled her back, his mouth closing the distance with hers. Lucy surrendered his hand, and willingly replaced it with his mouth on hers, his lips and tongue following the sweep his fingers had followed. They shifted precariously, her legs coming under his, as he leaned towards her, bending her back over the arm. Lucy relaxed in his hold, luxuriating in the feel of his hand roving down her side. She felt his thumb glide across the edge of her breast and gasped against his mouth. She shifted to reach his neck, and coincidentally give him better access to her, stretching her arm arm out and around him and...

...knocked over her generously poured glass of red wine right into the remains of Wyatt's dessert, flooding the table. The wine dripped rapidly onto the beige carpeting cascading across their shoes and splashing onto the couch itself.

Lucy realized what she had done and looked over, aghast. Wyatt, glanced casually, then tried to push himself up, catching himself on Lucy and tangling with her unceremoniously for a moment. His face crushed against her breast, he started to chuckle, looking up at her. She stared daggers at him. "Wyatt..."

More slowly, he extended his arms and extricated himself from her, still laughing quietly. Once he had his balance against the back of the couch, he delayed a moment more, dropping a light kiss on Lucy's nose with an adoring look. Then he pushed himself up, leapt towards the kitchen and sang out, "We've got this..."

Lucy looked at the mess she had made wracking her brain for some solution she could manifest out of the dishes and food that confronted her. At a loss, she put her hands out trying to slow the weeping of the red wine from the table to the floor. He found her there, shaking her head. "I really am useless, you realize."

Wyatt raised his eyebrow as he used paper towels to sop the wine, and offered one to Lucy for her hands. "You know how I feel about that, Professor. But maybe we should stick to white wine from now on."

* * *

After a good half hour of trying various remedies for removing red wine from upholstery, Lucy and Wyatt reconvened on the couch. The dishes cleared away, everything sprayed with cleaner and scrubbed. Lucy peeled off the yellow cleaning gloves from her hands. She had insisted that since it was her fault, she should do the lion's share of the cleaning of the rug. Wyatt protested, but she was not taking no for an answer.

"I know how particular you are about your place," she said.

He looked at her askance. "You realize how bad this looks? I invite you over and you end up scrubbing the floor? This is like the Constitutional Congress all over again!"

Lucy guffawed and curled up again, this time resting her knees boldly against his leg. Another level of ice felt broken. As if in wordless agreement, Wyatt put his arm across her legs and gestured for her to stretch out. She did, ending with her feet on his lap. To complete the picture, Wyatt pulled one of the blankets from the bedding pile near the couch and covered them both with the soft blue fabric. Beneath the blanket he started rubbing Lucy's feet, and she sighed deeply in contentment.

"I could get used to this," she said, looking at him with a small grin across the blanket. He looked at her with a gleam in his eye, but just nodded.

They sat a while in silence. Lucy's mind was lulled by the wine and the warm pressure of Wyatt's fingers rubbing the balls of her feet, but her thoughts drifted back over their conversation.

"Wyatt, can we talk now about the missions?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nodded. She went on, "The pattern I see in Emma's jumps is to change the conversation, ever so slightly around the US Constitution. Now, it's more subtle... (oh yes, that feels good on my toes) ...than Flynn. She's stuck to debates and impersonations when she can, rather than assassinations or kidnappings." She went silent for a few moments, eyes closed at Wyatt shifted to long strokes down the arch of her foot. "Umm...you've felt that. You mentioned that you were feeling out of sorts after the second Philadelphia jump since you weren't needed to fight as much."

Wyatt nodded again. "Not much use being a body guard if nobody comes out swinging. **I** felt useless then."

Unthinking, Lucy struggled to sit up to see him more clearly. Too late she realized this pulled her foot out of her grasp, but then this was more important. "Wyatt, you do see that there's a lot more to what you bring to the team than just punches and good looks, right?" Wyatt smiled, glanced away, and may have even blushed slightly. She put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm serious."

He looked back at her and she saw his mood shift, "I hope you are." Lucy realized how close they were, how right it felt. She shifted her hand to rest against the back of his neck, and she nodded.

Wyatt put his arm out and she snuggled into the crook of his arm. Feeling suddenly all was right with the world just listening to his heart beat so close to her own. But when he spoke again, she realized his mood had shifted again.

"Lucy, you really seemed fine when I mentioned Jessica earlier. "

Lucy nodded again, against his chest. "She's a part of your life. And I do feel now like you have let go of all that guilt you were holding onto."

Wyatt pressed a kiss against the crown of her head. "I don't know if it will all ever go away, but it feels lighter now. Trying to save her was one my stupidest moments," his voice grew quieter, "and cost an innocent man his life." Lucy gave him a squeeze. "But it gave me a doorway. Something I could step through that would help me remember that I did all I could..."

Lucy chimed in firmly as he trailed off, "You did all any one possibly could."

Wyatt sighed and closed his eyes. "And maybe even though it wasn't enough, it meant I could have a chance at something else. Find happiness with someone else. Maybe with you."

They sat a while in silence both feeling content with that having been said out loud. Lucy felt as though the world slowed down and stopped. She wished should could just have this moment last forever.

Then, Wyatt opened his eyes and stirred. He kissed hair again and shifted so that he was sitting on the couch facing Lucy. She made a sound of protest as his warmth left her, but straightened up and looked at him curiously.

"So, what would we do if she came back?" Wyatt said.

Lucy blinked at him incredulously. "Wait, we're doing this now? Before we've really sorted anything out? While we're both buzzed?"

He shook his head. "Yeah, you're right, bad timing." He hung his head and sagged against the couch.

Lucy looked contemplative. "Okay, hold on a minute. Let me catch up here." A thought occurred to her, "Wait, you said 'what would we do'?" He nodded. "Well that's part of the answer there. It's not just you alone figuring this out anymore." She took his hands, and he nodded rubbing her fingers with his thumbs.

Lucy went on. "Okay, lets think about how this might come about. We might go on some mission together, and things change so that she's finally alive again when we return. Either of us might go separately, so whoever was left behind wouldn't remember this timeline." Her tone became more grim. "Or something worse might happen. My mother or someone from Rittenhouse might change things. They might see us happy together and try to bring her back to pull the rug out from under us. Even my mother..." Lucy shook her head again. Then a bleak look crossed her face. "Wyatt, what if Carol or Ben, what if Rittenhouse was responsible somehow for what happened to Jessica? Maybe because of what happened in some other timeline? What if it's me, or my feelings for you, that are to blame..."

Wyatt pulled her close. "This is wrong."

Lucy said, muffled by his chest. "Anything could be true."

He pulled back to look in her eyes. "No, this whole conversation is wrong. I just got you to open up to me and trust we might have a future, now I'm shutting that down by talking about how our possible futures might well be destroyed? This is all wrong."

Lucy looked at him steadily. "What's right then?"

He said, "Us choosing what we want. Right here, right now. If we don't, then we are making a choice to make this timeline one where we don't have each other. If we decide not to be together, let's do it because that's what we want. Not Rittenhouse. Not my poor wife, who probably wouldn't recognize me anyway. You, Lucy, have gotten inside me like no one has. And what I've seen and known? I couldn't share anything of my missions with Jessica and it was driving us apart. Can you imagine what it would be like if I tried to go back to her now? After what I've seen, and known. And have felt for you?"

A tear slid down Lucy's cheek. She nodded and held him close.

* * *

After a while, and a few more murmured promises, they set up Lucy's bed. He gave her a long lingering kiss, then said good night.


	16. Chapter 16

Laying in bed, Wyatt replayed the conversations they'd had that day. He could feel Lucy in his arms, smell the scent of her hair, the taste of strawberries on her lips. _Not helping._ He rolled over and turned on the light, reading until his eyes got dim. He finally fell asleep chiding himself sleepily for getting twinges every time he read about Robert Todd Lincoln.

Wyatt's eyes snapped open. He wasn't sure what woke him, but his first thought was _Where is Lucy?_ He found himself at his weapons locker as he woke more fully. There were no sounds. He found his way back to his phone and saw no message or alert from their guard. A brief glance outside found the path to the courtyard calm and peaceful. He did not get a gun, but he walked carefully and quietly towards his door. When he saw the light on in the kitchen, he realized Lucy was awake.

* * *

It was not until she heard Wyatt's step in the hall that Lucy realized she'd been waiting for him.

After he settled her in bed, she tossed and turned on the thin mattress. She dozed for a while floating happily still in a haze from the kisses and wine. Then her eyes opened and she couldn't get the desire for a cup of tea out of her head. A conversation Emma had with Jefferson caught her imagination. She went into the office, grabbing her notebook reading back the scraps of conversation she'd jotted down. She brought the water to a boil and poured herself a cup of chamomile with a secret smile. She closed the notebook, distracted by memories of her day with Wyatt. _Can this work?_

Then she heard a footfall, and he was there.

Leaning against the door frame, Wyatt shook his head and said, "You know, Jiya is going to kill me if I send you back with a nice new case of sleeplessness." Lucy took in the comfortable, loose pants he wore and tried to keep from staring at the stomach muscles his definitive lack of shirt exposed. He walked in and checked the kettle for water. Found it plenty full and poured himself a cup of tea, sitting beside her.

Lucy tore her eyes away, and groaned. "I'm fine, it's not like it was. I was thinking about Emma and just got inspired. I think today put some spark back in me." She looked down with a smile and rolled her eyes over to him slyly. She saw a matching smile on his face.

Wyatt gave her a searching look and said, "I stand corrected. You do seem fine. But I think I know what I need to do. Come with me." He stood and motioned for Lucy to follow him. She went to grab her notebooks, and he waved his hand at them. "Do you really want to stay up all night? Leave it." He jerked his head toward the hallway and walked out, heading toward his room's door. Lucy sat for a moment, caught between excitement and nerves. Then grabbed her cup and followed him.

Wyatt opened the door and let Lucy go through. The room was lit by a small reading lamp by the bed. She stood there, uncertainly sipping her tea.

"Lucy, I should have done this to begin with. You take the bed, I'll take the couch tonight. You'll be much more comfortable. Plus...it occurred to me when I woke up that I'd rather be out there if anything happened, rather than in here wondering what's happening to you." He moved closer, putting his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him, her hands falling to her waist holding the tea. "That okay?" He brushed a strand of hair away from her eye.

She nodded, waiting. Wyatt stood stilll, feeling like he was resisting a magnetic current. He felt a ghostly imprint of her body against his as memories overlaid on the present. Then he dropped his hands and stepped back. "I'll let you get settled. I know you don't need me to tuck you in." He gave her half a grin and walked toward the hallway. "But let me know if you do need anything," he said as he opened the door.

"Wyatt—" Lucy called out and raised a hand towards him. "Don't go."

He slowly closed the door, then turned back to walk towards her with a look of hope in his eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Please note Lucy exhibits characteristics of panic attack in paragraph starting, _"Lucy touched it with her finger."_ That section ends with ... _"'Follow my breath. That's right. Deep breaths.'"_

* * *

Wyatt padded quietly over to Lucy in the half-light of his room. She stood still, surprised by her own boldness in asking him to stay. He took her hand and squeezed it. Confronted with the reality of the bed a sudden shyness overtook them both. Lucy stared down at Wyatt's exposed chest, gulped and started fidgeting with her tea cup. Wyatt took a deep inhale, thinking about the consequences of what might happen. The wine had left his system, though the sweet taste of strawberries remained. The longings that had plagued him as he lay trying to sleep lingered, but a rational sense of calm fell over him. _There is no hurry here._

"Let's get you into bed, Luce." Still holding her hand, he held out his free hand for her tea cup. She surrendered it, relieved to let him take the lead. Setting her cup on the bureau, he flipped back the covers beside her. Giving Lucy's hand a kiss, he stepped out of the way to let her climb in. As she did so her view fell on the book he'd been reading. Her eyes lit up with surprise and delight.

"Wyatt...you've been reading my book on Lincoln?"

At the foot of the bed Wyatt's progress slowed to a crawl and he turned to her. "I'm completely busted aren't I?" She stared at him, her scrutiny covered for once by the dim light. She allowed her eyes to rove across his half-clad, muscular body with no fear of being seen. _Just how much sexier can you get: built like that **and** reading my book._ "Um hmm," she said, sinking down further into the covers.

Wyatt stepped quietly towards the head of the bed again and slipped in between the sheets next to her. She lay still, not moving toward him and saying nothing. He took her silence for reticence and made a decision. _Not tonight._

"Hey," Wyatt said softly. "Want to hand me the book?" Lucy had been sitting still feeling her heartbeat increase and found herself suddenly frozen. He looked her way, baffled for a moment, then softly reached across her to retrieve it. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his arm. Smelled that clean spice scent first-hand. Then he was gone and she was missing him. She opened her eyes and turned her head towards him.

Wyatt sat back against the head-board and propped open the book to the bookmarked page. "I'm about half-way through his candidacy. The Lincoln-Douglas debates were gripping. _'A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free,'_ " he quoted freely. Lucy gulped, feeling her heart thud as she heard his voice speaking the words of Lincoln. He went on, looking directly at her now, "We, well, you met him. It makes me look at what we do with new eyes seeing him the way you do."

Then he rustled through the pages again. Put the bookmark back and flipped to the back, looking at the flyleaf. "But I will come clean. The real reason I love reading your book at night is so I can look at this before I go to bed." Lucy knew what he must mean, but she looked anyway. She saw the author's photo in black and white. Her face, some five years younger with a look of determination, peering back at her.

Lucy touched it with her finger. "My Mother took that picture." She looked up at Wyatt and took in the loving look on his face, suddenly the blankets seemed to be too heavy, the pillow leaden, her breath came tearing from her faster, her heart rate skyrocketed but not this time from desire.

"Wyatt...Wyatt..." she panted out his name in fear.

"Lucy, what is it?" Wyatt dropped the book in his lap and rolled over to her. Her breath was fast, her skin looked pale, clammy. "Breathe with me, Lucy." Wyatt put his arms around her as he could, and settled his chin on her shoulder. "Shh... shhh... You're safe, Lucy. Listen to my voice. Follow my breath. That's right. Deep breaths."

She sighed. The world came back into view and she felt the warmth of Wyatt's body beside her, the cool of the sheets against her feet. The solid square shape of the book poking into her leg through the covers. She took a few more deep breaths and nodded to Wyatt. He kissed her ear, squeezed her lightly and then rolled back giving her room. He propped his head up on his bent arm and looked at her.

"Ouch," said Lucy. "What?" Wyatt responded in concern. She smiled weakly at him. "Can you move the book? I'd no idea the corners were so sharp."

He scrambled around and removed the offending object, placing it back on the bureau. Everything in him screamed to take her in his arms and snuggle the rest of the fear out of her voice, smooth away the pain that he knew was behind her panic. But having been through these moments himself, he know that his physical presence, though welcome, was not necessarily the answer. He didn't know what she needed, but he knew he wanted to be there to help her find it.

Wyatt reached over her once more, now turning off the the lamp by the bedside. Then, settling down on her side he curled his body towards Lucy, focused on her but leaving room between them. "I'm here Lucy."

A motion came from under the covers. Her left hand sought him out and he felt his pinkie entwined with hers. He felt something suspiciously like moisture at the corner of his eye. Maintaining their pinkie bond, he tugged himself closer to her and put a gentle arm around her waist above the covers. Lucy sighed and turned her head towards his, their foreheads touching, their breaths coming together above her shoulder. Her heartbeat calmed. The tension in her muscles released and she felt her limbs relax. A sense of deep peace settled on Lucy.

Wyatt lay in silence thinking, _Whatever she needs. We'll get through this together._ As her breathing calmed, he anticipated her falling into a deep slumber after the activity and emotional shocks of the day. His senses tingled. Being close to her, the adrenaline her panic had sympathetically triggered in his system, his own desires all seemed primed to give him a sleepless night. _It's worth it. 100%._ Spending a night awake beside her seemed a lovely prospect compared to some of his lonely nightmare haunted evenings. But then she spoke.

"The quilt. Wyatt, tell me about the quilt?"

His mind raced. What was she talking about? Her right hand sneaked out from beneath the covers and tugged at the uppermost cover layer. "This beautiful thing. There must be a story behind it?"

Wyatt looked down across the bed. The star centered somewhere roughly in the middle of the giant spread was part of the backdrop of his life. The even eight-pointed star, constructed of numberless diamonds in shades of blue, reds and maroons and earth browns with its creamy background, was just a mass of shadows and shades of grey in the darkness. But he saw it in his mind's eye lying on his grandmother and grandfather's bed. A signal of sanctuary from his childhood.

"My grandma Sherwin made it."

Lucy said, "I wondered if it might be something like that." Her hand roved over the blanket, touching his tenderly when it passed. "It's old..."

"It was a wedding gift. Or, what do you call that bundle of sheets and table cloths they used to make for brides?"

She laughed. "Her trousseau?" said Lucy. Wyatt smiled at the sound.

"Her mother, and grandmother I think, and their neighbors got together to make it for her. I think some of their names are written on a tag on the other side. Though it's very faded." Lucy took Wyatt's hand that rested on her waist in hers. She moved it so his fingers felt the individual stitching, near invisible against the pale background. "This is what those talented ladies did. Each stitch by hand." Wyatt felt them closely, doing rapid calculations he thought there must be tens of thousands on the quilt.

"I never thought about that..." Lucy moved his hand back to her hold her again. _Where it belongs,_ she thought.

Wyatt snuggled in closer to Lucy, getting his chin comfortably placed on her shoulder, luxuriating in her closeness. The effect of the adrenaline leaked away, leaving him languid and sleepy. _Wake me in a year._ But he heard her wakeful breathing and wondered if she would sleep tonight after all.

"So Lucy, not only are you an expert on the history of American modern history, but also quilts? Where does your knowledge end? Spill." She chuckled.

"It's part of my anthropological training. Material culture. I spent several years researching women's fabric arts. Lone Star quilts like this one were important to indigenous peoples in the region. Quilts became a substitute for buffalo skin blankets when the herd were decimated."

"Lone Star. So this is a bit of Texas history then?"

"That's right. Just like a Delta Force soldier I could name." Lucy slanted her head to rest against his and shifted her body to conform with his. "Tell me about their wedding."

 _Story time._ Wyatt lifted his hand to give a stroke to Lucy's hair, then he began, "James and Sarah met the summer that he enlisted in the Army. She used to tell me that he was the only boy who always asked her permission to take her hand. They dated in groups back in those days. Went out to the cinema, stepped out at the local dance. Boys had to stand out to catch a girl's eye. My grandpa didn't have a lot of money. He couldn't send flowers. He didn't drive a flashy car. But he always walked Sarah home, right to the door each time. She cried so hard the night he left for Europe she knew he was the one. When he got back he asked her to marry him not 15 minutes after they saw each other again. Two weeks later they were married, at a Justice of the Peace's office. 'True love,' she always said, 'shouldn't have to wait.'"

Lucy mused on what life must have been like in those years. Surrendering your loved ones to the war effort. Everyone's lives being affected. The march of armies in Europe and Asia. The fear of war at home, and the devastating loss of life. She shuddered, thinking about the threat that Rittenhouse offered. Thinking of how her small team had intersected with the Great Wars, and how much more they might have to do—or sacrifice before they were done.

"Wyatt, I don't want to wait any longer. This is too important. I need you to know how I feel." She put her hands on either side of his face. He looked at her in wonder. She felt terrified, but couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "Wyatt, I love you. I can't deny it any more and I don't want to. I rely on you. When I'm with you I feel safe no matter what we're up against. I worry about you and want you to be well and whole. I want to know everything about your life, your family. I know that we don't have any guarantees. I know that anything could happen. Jessica could come back. We could forget each other after our next jump. My Mother could destroy our lives. You could come to hate me for what some other "me" has done—"

Wyatt shook his head and interrupted. "Lucy, don't go there. Ever. I'll never stop loving you." Then bit his lip realizing what he had said. She started crying and then he was kissing her. He kissed her forehead, solemn and loving. Then he kissed that sweet mouth he had dreamed about so many times. He kissed away her tears, wishing he could make them stop forever. Knowing she was right: there were no guarantees on anything for them. He felt tears in his own eyes.

They kissed, and cried, for some time. Neither able to let go of the moment or each other. Eventually they stilled. The dark quiet of the night had deepened. Wyatt could tell that they needed to sleep soon, or the sky would be turning cobalt shades of blue with morning.

"Lucy, rest. Let's talk more tomorrow." She nodded against his chest. Then, she turned over, facing away from him but with her whole body cupped by his. His arms around her waist once more. Close as the air.

They lay in silence for a while, then Lucy took a breath to speak, "Wyatt, I think I know now. Why I couldn't. Say that. Or let you in, before."

Wyatt nodded, just listening.

"Everytime you came close, I saw myself losing you. Like my sister, and my mother. Both my fathers. I..." she trailed off and he could hear the tears in her voice. "Shhh...shhh, Lucy. You don't have to do this." She shook her head.

"No, Wyatt. It's okay. I can feel it now. I was just scared. But if I fall for that, I'm just letting them win. Rittenhouse has taken so much from me, I can't let them take one thing more. Especially not..especially not you. Not what, who, I love. No more."

Wyatt held her tight. He whispered his love in her ear. Speaking quietly and saying things he didn't know he'd been thinking. Emptying his heart, hoping to somehow fill hers. Take away the losses this strong, slight woman had endured. Never knowing she was thinking much the same as she lay in his arms, answering him in kind. She hoped somehow the frail future they embraced could help heal all that her handsome, reckless soldier had lived through.

* * *

They finally fell asleep as the sky turned blue outside. Muted shadows of leaves fell on the apartment window as Margot pulled up to relieve Chuck.

"How are things?"

"Still quiet."

"Good."


	18. Chapter 18

Wyatt woke to the sound of the shower running. The sun was shining brightly and he could tell by the angle that they'd slept in late. He kept his eyes closed and just smiled. This weekend had been full of surprises. Far beyond what he'd hoped (though of course, part of him said _Yes, but what could have been last night..._ ) _What still lay ahead_ , he told himself.

Coffee. Workout. Scheduling the day. Breakfast. Waiting for the next call, countering Emma, defeating Rittenhouse. All these things were in the background of his mind. The normal steps of his day, what his life was now. Couldn't matter less in this very moment. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the impressions and memories from the last 36 hours flitting through his mind.

 _Lucy._

She came back in, wrapped in one of his towels, drying her hair with another. He opened his eyes slowly. Gave her an equally lazy smile. Held out his hands to her. She walked over to him, wrapping the towel around her hair and holding the other around her body in place. She took one of his hands with hers and sqeaked when he tugged her down to the bed beside him.

"Wyatt!" She said in mock anger, real embarrassment and growing desire. The sheets trapped between them, he molded her body to his, curling into her and putting his face into the gap between her shoulder and her neck again, as he had last night. He inhaled deeply, smelling apple and mint, and the light musky scent that said _Lucy_ to him now. Her initial wriggling turned into caresses to his hair. She shifted her head and breathed into his ear.

"Still going slow?"

"Miss Professor Sleepyhead, this is about as slow as I can manage right now. You'll notice there are several layers between you and me," he purred into her neck. She felt strong proof of the truth of his restraint, and desire, as she cuddled in deeper against him. Feeling every inch of the soft towel, the warmth of his hands, the slight gust of his hot breath, the taut length of his body against hers.

 _We're waiting why exactly?_ Lucy had no good answer for herself.

Wyatt cracked one of his eyes open. Encased in deep contentment and unwilling to lose this bubble, but with a niggling feeling of worry remaining as he recalled various less favorable moments from yesterday. "Lucy, how are you doing this morning? No regrets, no second thoughts?" He opened both eyes and smoothed hair away from her face with his free hand.

Feeling the towel slipping down her side, which for some reason did not worry her one bit, Lucy chuckled. "I'm actually feeling pretty silly it took us this long to get here." She dipped her face toward his and tasting his lips. "How about you?" She slipped her hand around his neck, fingers biting deep into his hair. He gasped, "Never." His hands slid down her body, one riding along the curve of her hip, the other sliding between her side and the bed. His hand grazed her breast, the towel slipping dangerously low, eliciting a gasping cry from her lips against his. He shifted her body up to rest half across his own, and she could feel the pulse of his response to her resting against her thigh. She experimentally extended her leg and rolled her torso across his as she sought to rejoin their mouths, separated in the slight readjustment of their positions. She had the thought, _I'm hungry for this_ , had to smile at herself. _Metaphors for sex? That's not like me._

"Um, Lucy," Wyatt said throatily. He was holding her tightly and spoke in a break between their kisses. She could feel his breaths, shorter and more labored. "I know I started this." More kisses. "But I'm not sure." Kisses, but with more restraint now. "That I should finish it." Wyatt put a little distance between them, still breathing rapidly. His face was flushed.

Lucy's heart was beating a mile a minute. She suddenly became aware of her state: damp from the shower, hair askew, towel tangled about her in disarray. She pulled back physically and emotionally and tried to straighten herself out. She nodded, not looking at him, thinking, _Dammit, I've made a fool of myself haven't I?_

Lucy?" Wyatt sat up. "What's wrong?" She mumbled something, still looking away, and he said "Wait, what?"

"I can't believe I just threw myself at you. With what you said last night, I thought I understood, but I'm sorry, this is.." She stopped as he touched her chin and gently guided her to look at him.

"Lucy Preston, if my poor attempt at chivalry has made you think I don't want you, please, please let me correct that." He gave her a warm smile, and the confusion and fear started to leave her eyes. "I just want to give you, and us, the respect we deserve. I think," he looked at her seriously, "That I will love you until the day I die. But too much of our lives have been out of our control. I'd like this part of it, at least, to start deliberately." Her heart skipped a beat and her face lit up with love and hope again.

He gave her a light kiss, then cocked his head and went on, "But don't let me mansplain our relationship to you. I'm continuing to try to take it slow, but if that's not what you want..." He moved his hands to rest lightly, one on her shoulder, one on her knee. "I'm yours to command, Ma'am."

Lucy looked down at the hand on her knee. She felt her heart calming down, both from passion and panic. She leaned against him and nodded, closing her eyes again. "I like your instincts, sir." She looked up at him. "I trust you. Let's enjoy the ride."

* * *

Lucy and Wyatt spent a quiet morning going through Wyatt's routine. He took her with him to the gym today. Day two of borrowed clothes. She enjoyed watching his sparring, and even signed up for a self-defense class while she was there. Wyatt introduced her to his trainer, Wade and she bonded with him by teasing Wyatt good-naturedly about his obsession with keeping in shape. As they left, Wade gave him a knowing nod and a thumbs up.

They bought coffee together for Margot, their security guard on duty. Lucy mentioned wanting to get to know the guards over at Jiya's. "You'll like Marisol," said Wyatt with a wink. "She's a character." Lucy shook her head in wonder. _Always one step ahead._

They checked in with Rufus and Jiya. All were in agreement about dinner and pool "as usual." Lucy got away with just telling Jiya that "things were going well," but she was secretly excited by the prospect of how different it _would_ be. Jiya officially dubbed it their first 'real double date.' "I like the sound of that," Wyatt said, when Lucy shared the news with him.

They had a quick lunch, then spent some time cuddled up on the couch reading. Tom Clancy for Wyatt ("How does that measure up to the real thing?" "He was a genius of research. Considering he was an insurance agent, it's kind of eerie.") and a biography of Thomas Jefferson for Lucy ("How's that compared to the real thing?" "The details are right, but the feel is all wrong. Having this job just makes me realize how much guessing we do, even with all our research.") ("Wyatt, your couch really is not very comfy." "Sorry, Professor. You'll have to help me shop around for a new one.")

Later in the day, they had time to kill before dinner time. Neither wanted to go off on their own. Lucy wasn't in the mood for more research. They pulled out the basketball again and headed out to the small court. Chance number two for Lucy to borrow clothes from Wyatt. He was not complaining. "It looks like I'm going to pack differently the next time I visit." They smiled at each other.

The day had become overcast, put a bit of a chill in the air. Lucy got goosebumps. She took off, chasing about to avoid Wyatt's blocking hands and trying to warm up. She got a good shot in by slipping under his outstretched arms.

"Cheating! You're using your size against me."

"Not cheating, it's good tactics. Besides..." Lucy got a far-away look in her eyes. "It's all about what happens in the moment. Wyatt!" He snapped to attention at her sharp tone, securing the ball and also instinctively checking the perimeter for signs of any danger. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he looked at her curiously and dribbled a bit, waiting.

Wheels were turning in her head. "What if I'm not playing chess with Emma, but pool." Wyatt nodded and pursed his lips in thought, letting her to go on.

Lucy continued, "What if she doesn't exactly know what the effects are that she's going to provoke. That's why she doubled back to Philadelphia, even though it's dangerous to go too close to a time you've been before. And the other jumps: they all had connections in the philosophies and political movements that lead up to our Constitutional Congress. _Habeas Corpus_ in England, the French Directory adopted Napoleon's judicial code. Each of the changes she makes ripple forward, but in ways she can't predict."

Wyatt was nodding deeply, in appreciation of what she was saying. Lucy went on, encouraged. "She's doing small adjustments, and seeing how they take. Maybe compensating and trying to steer things in the direction Rittenhouse wants." She moved over to one of the picnic tables and sank down onto a bench. "What if she's trying for something big, like changing the Bill of Rights, eliminating some of its components."

"Or..." Wyatt interrupted, then trailed off.

She looked over at Wyatt. "Or what?"

"Or what about getting rid of it all together? Madison made an argument for that in one of our debates. He was shouted down, but..."

"But what if the balance is shifted by what she does so that the Federalists have too great of a victory, and the United States is formed with no first ten amendments. It would lay the ground work for the country to be practically a dictatorship in time..." They looked at each other in horror. They stood up as one and headed inside, the game forgotten. "I'll call Agent Christopher." "I'll call Rufus." They separated and filled in their team members, a feeling of urgency suddenly striking through the bubble they'd been surrounded by for the whole weekend.

Some time later they came back together. Dropping down onto the couch to debrief.

"Agent Christopher grilled me. She wanted to know any details I had that supported my theory. I'll go over it all with her tomorrow, I hope Emma continues this break she's giving us. We could really use some time to get our heads around this, if we think its true."

Wyatt scoffed, "Of course it's true. Rufus is on board. He said he knew you'd crack it eventually, Lucy. Jiya wants to hear the whole story from you tonight."

Lucy looked at him, "Tonight? Do you think we can still go enjoy ourselves, after this?"

He reached out and took her hand. "That's exactly what we need. To be with friends. To take your, and all of our minds, off of what we can't figure out. We can obsess about it together, even. But what we'll all need, I'm pretty sure, is each other." He kissed her fingers and she was reminded of the first time he'd done that, such a short time ago. She felt so different now. She remembered how lost and alone she'd felt, even being right there with all of them. Even having Wyatt by her side. Now, she felt whole.

* * *

When time came to head out that afternoon, Lucy lingered, gathering her things and feeling strangely nostalgic. Her shoulders drooped. Wyatt came up to her and slipped his arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck.

"I'll miss you." He said quietly. She nodded, unable to respond, just feeling.

He took one of her hands and twirled her about. "Miss Lucy Preston, my favorite Professor Sleepyhead, may I take this opportunity to ask you out on a date. Not a double date. Calling it a single date sounds silly, what's with that? Tomorrow evening?"

The feelings in her chest redoubled. Her eyes shone and she nodded. "Y-es, yes. **Yes.** " She stumbled over the words as she began and became more firm as she went on.

He pulled her to him and gave her a last lingering kiss and held her a moment before they left.

"Thanks for trusting I was ready," he said quietly.

"Thanks for pushing me to try," she said into his shoulder.

They walked out together hand in hand. They would take Wyatt's jeep, he had promised not to drink to excess and hers was still parked at Jiya's. When they reached the vehicle Lucy gave him a narrow look, dumped her bag in the jeep then held up her index finger to him.

"One minute."

He watched, puzzled as she hurried across the sidewalk and headed back into the courtyard. She came back out with something in one of her hands, and crossed over to the security vehicle. Margot put the window down and Lucy said something to her. Margot gave her a broad smile and he thought he caught a thumb's up. Lucy crossed the parking lot back to him. She walked confidently and got into the car with him. She was still holding something in one hand, but it was so small he got no glimpse of it.

Wyatt turned the key and pulled out. Lucy gave him a smile but sat quietly, looking out the windows. At last he could take it no longer.

"So?"

"So what?" She said cheekily.

He rolled his eyes. "What was all that?"

She said, "I didn't want to be rude, so I said goodbye to Margot."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. "She seemed pretty happy. Glad to have just one of us to keep track of again?"

She looked over at him. "I told her I'd probably see her again soon." Wyatt raised his eyebrows and smiled at her.

Then Lucy deliberately placed the small object she had been holding onto the dash board where he could see it. It was a tear-off advertisement from the apartment complex, with a phone number to call. It offered 1 to 3 bedroom apartments.

"Thought you might want this. You were saying your place seemed a bit small," Lucy said. He nodded in response, still puzzled.

"Also, I hear from a reliable source that this place is safer than where I'm staying now," she went on.

Wyatt could suddenly hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "Lucy..."

She shifted closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder, one on his knee, as he drove. "You know that timeline you talked about? The one where we're together? I'm about ready for that to start now. I told you I loved you and I meant it. We can take it as slow as you like, but let's not waste any more time worrying." Wyatt pulled the car over to the side of the road. He said, "Going slow is all well and good, but like my grandmother, I am also a believer that true love should not have to wait." His lips met hers. They were both distracted from traffic, dinner and any other concern for quite a while.

* * *

Margot trailing behind them was initially worried by Wyatt's sudden stop on the road, but then she realized what was going on. _Good kids. Glad they finally got it together._

She gave them some space and took that time to radio Marisol to give her the dirt. No sense letting good gossip go to waste.

* * *

Wyatt and Lucy eventually got to the restaurant, ready with excuses and apologies for being late. But no need, news had traveled through the security grapevine of both their delay and their happy news. Rufus and Jiya bought the first round of drinks and toasted their friends' happiness. Jiya sent a texted plea to Lucy for **_details_** later. Lucy blushed but acquiesced and made that promise with a will. Rufus and Wyatt exchanged a fist bump and a nod. Wyatt shook his head at his good friend in evident relief.

The team settled down to eat, talk time travel and swap Rittenhouse theories. After dinner, everyone played pool together. Lucy proudly chalked up the 2 points she delivered. She asked everyone for pointers, excitedly telling them about her insight about Emma the game had given her. If there was a bit more sparkle in Lucy's eye and a lingering kiss here or there between her and Wyatt, each person present was happier than the next to see these two weary travelers finally where they belonged: with each other.

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks so much to everyone for reading along with this and the prequel story, Perspective. This little weekend in their lives has stretched out over months of ours! Thank you for your indulgence with the ups and downs of emotions. It felt so good to be able to go deep with the issues of Jessica, Lucy's Mom and to flesh out their families (esp. Wyatt's) a bit more in flashbacks and story. Also, thanks for your patience at the teasing of steamier interactions between Lucy  & Wyatt here. (I've got a follow-up story planned for that "Single Date" Wyatt asked Lucy out on. Rating "M" alert!) My gratitude to everyone who has read, favorited and commented or let me know elsewhere that you've enjoyed. Your words of encouragement are everything!


End file.
